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SADOLETO 
ON EDUCATION 



SADOLETO 
ON EDUCATION 

A TRANSLATION OF THE 
DE PUERIS RECTE INSTITUENDIS 

WITH NOTES AND INTRODUCTION BY 

E. T. CAMPAGNAC 

PROFESSOR OF EDUCATION, UNIVERSITY OF LIVERPOOL 
AND 

K. FORBES 

LECTURER IN EDUCATION, UNIVERSITY OF LIVERPOOL 



OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS 

LONDON EDINBURGH GLASGOW NEW YORK 

TORONTO MELBOURNE BOMBAY 

HUMPHREY MILFORD 

1916 



,S2/H 



PRINTED IN ENGLAND 
AT THE OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS 






In a chapel along the north wall of the Cathedral at Carpentras 
there is a cenotaph with the following inscription : over the top 
are the words 

QVASI MORIENTES ET ECCE VI VIM VS. 



Upon the tablet in the centre : 

D. O. M. S. 

I AC O BO SADOLETO EPISCOPO CAR- 
PENTORACTIS S.R.E. PRESB. CARDINALI 
VIRO MORVM GRAVITATE PRVDENTIA 
ET VITAE INTEGRITATE PRAESTANTISSIMO 
DOCTRINA ET ELOQVENTIA CVM IIS QVOS 
MIRATA EST ANTIQVITAS CONFERENDO 
PAVLVS SADOLETVS EPISCOPVS CARPENT. 
CVM NE SEPVLCHRO QVIDEM AB EO VELLET 
ESSE SEIVNCTVS CVM QVO EIVSDEM REGEDAE 
ECCLESIAE OFFICIO DEO AVCTORE CONP7NC- 
TVS FVISSET PATRVO DE SE OPTIME MERI- 
TO FECIT ET SIBI. ANNO AB ORTV SAL- 
VATORIS M.D.LVII. 



INTRODUCTION 



The Empire and the Papacy had been conceived 
and established to preserve against alien and 
destructive forces two ideas, diverse in origin and 
in character, and yet destined to a strange union. 
Roman civilization and Christianity, a kingdom 
of this world and a kingdom not of this world, 
the one fastening its domination on subject 
peoples more firmly by the spell of its name than 
by the force of its armies, the other (to balance 
paradox with paradox) not loth to support a spiri- 
tual claim by material power, — these two were 
both threatened; and a common danger cemented 
an alliance fruitful in whatever has been most noble 
and most astonishing in the history of the Western 
World. While men were making ramparts and 
building walls they had neither time nor strength 
for anything but these absorbing tasks, but once 
safe they were at leisure to think. Wrought 
hitherto into solidarity by united efforts for self- 
protection and by acts beaten by repetition into 
the habit of a common routine, they now became 
individuals again, and took account both of them- 
selves and of the world in which they lived. 
Security prompted reflection, and they were driven 
upon a problem the solution of which, never 
reached, is yet the distant and disappointing goal 



viii INTRODUCTION 

to which human thought is by relentless necessity 
urged. 

The structure of Society governs the ideas of 
its members, and is fashioned to express and to 
preserve them ; but ideas new born demand for 
their existence, their growth and their fruitful 
operation a re-shaping and an enlargement of 
the boundaries of Society. How to keep without 
petrifying what has been good, how to welcome 
what is new without treachery to the old — this 
is a question which recurs, though men may forget 
it when for a moment they are lulled to somnolent 
content with the smooth organization of Society 
as they know it, or when fascinated by new ideas 
they forget that these must be adapted to the 
general life and the common purposes of the social 
organism which can claim their parentage by 
a right as good as that of the bright particular 
minds from which they seemed to trace their 
descent. 

Wisdom often counsels men to take things as 
they are, and humour sometimes bids them accept 
inconsistencies, not with the tough determined 
hands of those who grasp nettles, but with the 
smiling acquiescence of critics, sensitive indeed 
to the oddness of the world, but not responsible 
for it — sometimes and often, but not always, or 
wisdom would become a cowardly prudence, and 
humour a very bitter cynicism. 

It was not possible in the time of Sadoleto for 
honest men, who permitted themselves to reflect, 
to be content with the position and the preten- 
sions of the Church either as a temporal power 



INTRODUCTION ix 

or as a Christian community. The spectacle of 
authority threatened from without, and distrustful 
of itself, — of avarice, corruption or pride patent 
and unashamed in those whose office it was to 
teach and to practise renunciation, purity and 
meekness,' — of worldly splendour eclipsing the 
gentler light of modesty, and of cruelty trampling 
upon weakness, made them think either of reform 
by rearrangement, or else of a reform which differed 
little from a fresh beginning after revolution and 
destruction. To minds already engaged with 
these great questions the new learning came as 
treasure-trove, as a gift from heaven. For some 
the new studies, providing as yet no system or 
coherent scheme of thought or of life, but command- 
ing their interest and energy, seemed to sanction 
indifference or to warrant scorn of the forms of 
belief and conduct established by use and guarded 
by authority. Scholarship needs ample leisure ; 
pretence of scholarship needs more ; the genuine 
student and the precious or pretty dilettante gave 
the leisure which they claimed and won to what- 
ever most strongly attracted them, and, with 
either a pardonable preoccupation or a culpable 
negligence, set aside the duties which they owed 
to the general community. Others found irresis- 
tible the temptation to live, if they could, in two 
worlds, and adapted the language of the Classics 
to the sentiments and doctrines of the Church, 
or employed the forms of Christian expression 
for Hellenic ideas, doing violence at once to 
scholarship and to orthodoxy. There were others 
yet who hoped to find in the new learning a cure 



x INTRODUCTION 

for the troubles of their time ; to reconcile 
Christian ideals with Hellenic culture, arid direct 
the lives of individuals by a scheme of education 
in which physical and intellectual training should 
balance and enhance the value of moral and 
religious discipline, and with a wide and generous 
range include the task of shaping the character 
of nations and moulding their destinies. Not less 
than this was their ambition. 

How ardently and yet with what reserve 
Sadoleto made this ambition his own, the treatise 
which is here presented to the student affords 
evidence. 

He had two signal qualifications for the task to 
which inclination and duty directed him : he had 
sincerity and kindness. There is high authority, 
to which Sadoleto paid reverence, for dividing 
intellectual from moral virtues. Sincerity may be 
placed equally well in either category. Honesty, 
simplicity, clearness, moderation, severity, 're- 
straint, dignity, — all these are qualities which 
sincerity gathers up into itself ; and they are the 
qualities of the good man and of the good scholar. 
And kindness, too, belongs to the mind as well as 
to the heart. The vivid and genial enjoyment 
of the world, the disposition to spread happiness, 
and, under the impulse of a catholic sympathy 
controlled by a rigorous taste, to discover and 
acclaim kindred with all men, a sensitive discrimina- 
tion lifted above all risk of meanness by an 
exuberant generosity, — these are proofs and fruits 
of humane learning and of natural but disciplined 
piety. 



INTRODUCTION xi 

It would be idle to maintain that Sadoleto made 
the reconciliation complete between rival and 
conflicting forces and tendencies, or that he 
reached a goal which ever baffles and attracts 
human effort ; that he contributed much to 
achieve it, that he went far upon the road, cannot 
be denied. The praise bestowed by St. Jerome x 
on Christian writers of his time who united 
classical learning with Christian feeling, was 
equally deserved by Sadoleto. 

Where strong and impetuous streams meet, only 
a fool would look for smooth water ; later, indeed, 
they may be tamed, and drawn into the dull and 
useful lines of a canal ; or they may defy subjec- 
tion and urge their way, first in turbulent rivalry 
of sparkling and foaming commotion, presently 
in full and swift but tranquil course, to a distant 
engulfing sea. Sadoleto stood on the narrowing 
strip of land at which the rivers converged ; he 
had tracked them, this way and that, high upward 
towards their sources, and descending to the point 
of tumultuous junction surveyed the conflict with 
serenity and tempered hope. He had no desire to 
rob them of their vehement life, or to enslave 
them to the sordid uses of pedants or bigots ; 
he had some prophetic vision of their late but 
certain union, their force augmented by fusion 
and attested by quietness, their waters lit by a 
far-shining peace. 

1 ' Qui omnes in tantum philosophorum doctrinis atque 
sententiis suos referciunt libros, ut nescias quid in illis primum 
admirari debeas, eruditionem saeculi an scientiam Scriptura- 
rum' (Jerome, Ep. 10, Ad Magnum Oratorem). 



xii INTRODUCTION 

II 

Jacopo Sadoleto was born in 1477 at Modena, 
the son of Giovanni Sadoleto, 1 a man of high 
reputation as well for his goodness as for his skill 
and learning in law. His early education was 
entrusted to Niccolo Leoniceno, 2 a student and 
teacher of medicine and of philosophy at Ferrara. 
He learned Latin and Greek quickly, and, at an age 
when most boys are engaged upon the acquisition 
of words and the forms of grammar, could make 
his way to the meaning of authors. His father, 
delighted with his ability thus proved, hoped 
that his son would enter his own profession ; but 
Jacopo's inclination was to philosophy and to 

1 Professor of Law at Pisa and Ferrara. 

2 Niccolo Leoniceno (1428-1524). Born at Lonigo (Leoni- 
cum), near Vicenza. Studied medicine at Padua: taught 
at Ferrara, where he was a colleague of Giovanni Sadoleto 
at the Academy. Gave much of his time to letters and the 
study of the classics, as witness the following works : 

1. De Plinii et plurium aliorum in medicina erroribus. 

Ferrara, 1492, 4 . 

2. Liber de epidemia quam vulgo morbum gallicum vocant. 

Venice, 1497, 4 . 

3. Dedipsadeetpluribus aliisserpentibus. Venice, c. 1498, 4 . 

4. In libros Galeni a se translates ad artem medicinalem 

praefatio. De tribus doctrinis ordinatis secundum Galeni 
sententiam praefatio et opus ipsum. Galeni in Hippo- 
cratis aphorismos commentarius. Ferrara, 1509, 4°. 

5. Libri duo Galeni de curandi ratione ad Glauconem latine 

versi. Pavia, 1514, 4 . 
Published after his death : 

6. Opuscula medica. Basel, 1552. 

7 . Conversio in latinum atque explanatio primi libri A ristotelis 

de partibus animalium. Venice, 1540, 8°. 



INTRODUCTION xiii 

letters. He attempted poetry, with some success. 
His hexameters on M. Curtius are not without 
dignity ; his poem on the Laocoon (discovered 
in 1506) drew from Bembo warm praise — to have 
read the poem, he said, was to have seen the 
statue — and from the Pope a present of a manu- 
script of Plato. His model in prose was Cicero ; 
with Aristotle he began philosophy, though to 
Plato he soon betook himself. 

At the age of 22 he went to Rome and placed 
himself in the protection of Oliviero Caraffa, 1 under 
whose roof he lived for several years, winning the 
admiration of many persons of distinction and 
power. His modesty of demeanour, his practised 
but spontaneous reserve, his courage and his austere 
self-control commended his brilliant parts to shrewd 
judges. Among these was Fregoso, 2 Bishop of 

1 Oliviero Caraffa (1430-1511). Archbishop of Naples 1458. 
Cardinal 1467. ' Nullus fuit non Romae tantum, et in Italia, 
sed in universo fere Christiano orbe literarum scientia, ac 
doctrina, insignis, aut discendi studio illectus adolescens, 
qui Oliverii beneficium ac liberalitatem non sit expertus.' 
Ciaconius, Vitae Pont. Rom. et Card., Rome, 1677. Vol. ii, 
pp. 1097-1105. 

2 Federico Fregoso (c. 1480-1541). Born at Genoa. Ap- 
pointed Archbishop of Salerno by Julius II in 1507. The King 
of Spain refused to confirm the appointment, because Fregoso 
had supported the claims of France in the late wars. The 
Pope accordingly gave him the bishopric of Gubbio. At 
the court of his uncle, the Duke of Urbino, he met Bembo 
and Castiglione, with whom he kept a lifelong friendship. 
From 1510 to 1513 he lived in Rome, where he became inti- 
mate with Sadoleto. He took a leading part in defending his 
native city against the troops of Charles V, and when, in 1522, 
he had to flee he was cordially received by Francis I, who 



xiv INTRODUCTION 

Salerno, into whose household he was after the 
death of Caraffa taken. Here he had for com- 
panion Pietro Bembo, 1 to whom he was already 
allied by common interests and tastes, and with 
whom he was to be associated throughout his life. 
His scholarship, his industry and his piety 
were valued and rewarded by Fregoso, who gave 
him a small ecclesiastical charge in Rome ; his 
generosity was recognized and praised by those 
who surrounded him, for he used his rapidly 
increasing influence to secure promotion not for 
himself, but for others. 

gave him a benefice at Dijon, where he lived for seven years 
during which he devoted himself to the study of Hebrew and 
the reform of the rule of his Abbey. In 1529 he returned to 
Italy; but deposed from the archbishopric of Salerno, he 
administered the see of Gubbio till his death. In 1539 he had 
been created Cardinal by Paul III. A funeral oration upon 
him was delivered by Sadoleto at Carpentras. 
Works : 

1. Parafrasi sopra il Pater noster in terza rima. 

2. Trattato dell' orazione. Venice, 1542, 8<>. 

3. Meditazioni sopra Salmi 130 e 14J. 

4. Orazione a' Genovesi. 

5. Letters to Bembo, Sadoleto, &c. 

1 Pietro Bembo (1470-1547). Born at Venice. Went to 
Florence at the age of 8 with his father, who was appointed 
Ambassador of Venice to that city. Returning to Venice after 
two years, he studied there till 1492, when he went to Messina 
to work under Constantine Lascaris. He afterwards studied at 
Padua, and Ferrara, where his friendship with Sadoleto was 
formed. From Ferrara he returned to Venice, where he became 
a prominent member of the Academy of Aldus Manutius. He 
subsequently became joint secretary to Giovanni de' Medici 
(Leo X) along with Sadoleto. He passed most of his later life 
at Padua. He was made a Cardinal in 1539 by Paul III. 



INTRODUCTION xv 

Occupied in the duty which Fregoso had 
assigned him and with the quiet tasks of a student, 
he spent in Rome the years covered by the later 
portion of Alexander VI's Pontificate, and the 
period in which, following him, Pius III and then 
Julius II sat in the chair of St. Peter. Alert and 
observant, protected by the purity of his nature 
from influences which demoralized or hardened 
other men, but sharing eagerly, yet with finely 
tempered discretion, in all the elements of the 
brilliant and varied culture of that time, he was 
learning to form shrewd estimates of character, 
and while he sought no prominence for himself 
was not unnoticed. 

In 15 13 Giovanni de' Medici, second son of 
Lorenzo the Magnificent, was elected Pope, as 
Leo X. One of his first acts was to appoint 
Sadoleto and Bembo to be his secretaries. The 
two friends were thus again united in fortune. 
The office was one for which Sadoleto, not less 
than his friend, was eminently well qualified; 
it was an office which gave him great power ; we 
learn from Florebelli * that he never asked a favour 
for himself. As in the bestowal of patronage he 
was scrupulous, so he would accept no reward 
from those whose advancement he secured. 

A few years later, in 1517, the bishopric of 

1 Antonio Florebelli (Fiordibello) (c. 1510-74). Born at 
Modena. Studied law, literature, and philosophy. Was succes- 
sively secretary to Sadoleto and Cardinal Crescenzi (whom 
he accompanied to the Council of Trent). In 1557 became 
Bishop of Avella. He was intimate with Bembo and other 
notable scholars of his day. Among his works is a treatise 
entitled De auctoritate Ecclesiae. Lyon, 1546. 



xvi INTRODUCTION 

Carpentras, near Avignon, fell- vacant. Sadoleto 
was at the time visiting Notre-Dame de Lorette, 
and during his absence he was elected to the see 
by the Pope. He tried at once to put the office 
and the honour from him, but when he returned 
to Rome yielded to the command of the Pope, 
and accepted with submission what other men 
had clamoured to get. While Leo X lived Sadoleto 
was, however, unable to enter his diocese, detained 
by his duties in Rome. The care of the see he 
placed for the time in the hands of men judiciously 
selected for the task ; but as soon as Adrian VI 
became Pope (in 1522) he hastened to Carpentras, 
where he was eagerly welcomed, and where he 
remained during the short reign of that Pontiff, 
happily engaged in the service of his Church and 
supported by the affection of his people. 

But his interests went beyond the routine work 
of a bishop. About the time of Adrian's accession, 
or perhaps a little earlier, a society known as the 
Oratory of Divine Love had been established. 
Sadoleto and Caraffa 1 both belonged to this 
organization, which numbered fifty or sixty 
members. They were bound to work and to pray 
for the purification of the Church. Their aims 
and their methods have been succinctly described. 
They combined ' a stern and almost Puritan 
moral ideal . . . with a belief that there was no 
essential antagonism between faith and culture, 
between profane learning and Christian knowledge. 

1 Giovanni Pietro Caraffa (1476-1559). Succeeded to the 
Papacy in 1555, at the age of 79. One of the most resolute 
reformers of the Church from within and the most determined 
foe of the Reformation from without. 



INTRODUCTION xvii 

As the great mediaeval theologians and scholastics 
had interpreted Christianity to their age, and had 
harmonized the divergent elements in the know- 
ledge of their time, so now in the Oratory of 
Divine Love the feeling found expression that the 
work had to be done afresh, and that the new 
revelation given to men by the Renaissance 
must be incorporated into the system of Christian 
thought.' l 

Sadoleto was recalled to Rome by Clement VII, 
but begged that he should be allowed to go back 
to Carpentras after at most three years. Clement 
used him not as a minister, but as a friend and 
counsellor, though he was more ready to hear 
than to accept advice, and disposed rather to 
adopt than consistently to pursue the policy 
which in deference to it he had initiated. With the 
Pope's reluctant assent Sadoleto returned to 
Carpentras, to him a haven of rest and refuge — 
' locus ab omni terrore et tumultu liber ' 2 he calls 
it in a letter (1527) to Bembo. In another letter, 
written eight years later to Paullus, he describes 
his life there — ' nos hie in suavissimo otio vivimus ; 
copia rerum abundamus (praeterquam pecuniae) 
pene omnium'. 3 

Sadoleto had advised the Pope against war with 
Charles V : he had recommended him, after the 
war was begun, to accept peace on any terms. 
His counsels were not obeyed. It was a dramatic 

1 Cambridge Modern History, ii. 640. 

2 Vol. i. Epp. I. 3. Iacobi Sadoleti opp. omn. ed. J. A. 
Tumerman. Verona, 1737-8 ; henceforward quoted as V, 

3 V. vol. ii. Epp. ad Paullum 6. 

1754 b 



xviii INTRODUCTION 

vindication of his wisdom that riot many, days after 
he had left Rome the city was taken and sacked. 
The Bishop of Carpentras was full of sorrow for 
Rome, for his friends and, above all, for his master 
the Pope. Of his private losses the hardest to bear 
was that of his books ; 1 but his spirit, the strength 
of which Erasmus noted — ('non admittit animus 
tuus deficientis vocabulum' 2 ) — was unbroken, 
and his temper unruffled. 'Nudus in has oras', 
he writes, ' tamquam ex naufragio sum compulsus : 
at liber . . . utpote cui iam non in his rebus 
externis . . . animi sit quies et vitae beatitudo 
reposita.' Erasmus, condoling 3 with Sadoleto on 
the destruction of his library — ' libros, rem 
sacratissimam ' — relieved his own feelings, if not 
those of his correspondent, with characteristically 
vehement abuse of those by whom the outrage 
was done : ' worse than Scythians, Vandals, 
Goths or Huns . . . ruffians,' he calls them. Sado- 
leto sought comfort in the exercises of religion 
and in a study, pious but scholarly, of the Scrip- 
tures. To his friends he wrote letters of consola- 
tion, and to fortify churchmen in their faith he 
made a commentary on the Epistle of St. Paul to 
the Romans. He was not unconcerned by the 

1 ' Veni in Galliam nudus rerum omnium, tanquam ex nau- 
fragio in terram eiectus . . . Iuvisti me opibus, instruxisti 
libris, quorum ego iactura (maximam enim feceram) non 
mediocriter angebar.' V. vol. i. Epp. III. 4. Cf. V. vol. i. 
Epp. I. 3 (to Bembo). See also Traite d' education du Car- 
dinal Sadolet, P. Charpenne, Paris, 1855. 

2 Vol. iii. Ep. 733, Erasmi opera omnia, ed. Van der Aa, 
Leyden, 1703, henceforward quoted as L. 

3 L. Ep. 988. 



INTRODUCTION xix 

temporal fortunes or misfortunes of his people ; 
and used his influence with the Pope to mitigate 
the exactions which the Cardinal Clermont Lodeve 
made as Legate upon the people of Avignon and 
the neighbouring towns. The friendship afterwards 
established between Clermont and Sadoleto does 
credit to the generosity of both. 

The oppression of Jewish usurers was heavy 
upon the people over whom Sadoleto had charge. 
He curbed the avarice of the aliens who were 
draining the life of their victims ; and, turning 
at once and by habit to writing, composed a 
treatise, unfortunately lost, but reported by 
Florebelli to have been one of his most eloquent 
pieces, against the Jews. 

To the Pope, to the King of France and to 
lesser authorities Sadoleto appealed not once or 
twice, but frequently, to secure benefits for his 
diocese or to protect it from injury. 

Nothing distracted him from the pursuit of 
letters ; or rather, for him learning and piety 
were closely allied, and both quickened and 
confirmed his steady impulse to practical benevo- 
lence. In a letter (May, 1527) addressed to Lazzaro 
Bonamici x he records his ' veterem ac diuturnam 
sitim optimarum artium ', just as later, in 1535, 

1 V. vol. i. Epp. 1.2. Lazzaro Bonamici (1479-1552). Of 
humble birth, he was sent to the University of Padua by a 
friend of his father. He distinguished himself in mathematics, 
astronomy and music, but especially in classics, and after a life 
of some vicissitudes (among other troubles he was in the siege of 
Rome in 1527) he was offered the chair of Greek and Latin 
Language at Padua, which he filled with distinction till his 
death, notwithstanding the efforts of many distinguished men 

b2 



xx INTRODUCTION 

he tells his nephew Paullus Megendi voluptate 
ducor, sumque reversus ad Aristotelis scripta, quae 
quotidie mihi maiora praeclarioraque videntur'. 1 
He liked to write with care and at leisure, and was 
distressed if hurried in composition by pressure 
of affairs. He apologizes for a letter, which few 
Latinists would disown, as ' literas inaccuratas 
atque illepide scriptas '.* Philosophy for him 
might have been defined in the words of Sturm, 
' sapiens atque eloquens pietas ', ' pietas literata ' ; 
its aim was a reconciliation between scholarship 
and religion, though he was too modest to use the 
language which Scaliger 2 in an epitaph put into his 
mouth : ' Sic solus iunxi cum Cicerone Deum '. 

The education of the young he deemed a specially 
important part of the work which fell to him as 
a bishop ; as a scholar he was not less attracted 
by it. The treatise De Pueris Rede Instituendis 
gives evidence both of long meditation upon the 
principles, and also of first-hand acquaintance with 
the methods and practice of instruction. He took 

to attract him to other centres of learning, among whom was 
Sadoleto, who vainly tried to induce him to teach at Carpentras. 

Among his published works may be mentioned : 

i. Carmina. Venice, 1552, 8°. 

2. Concetti delta lingua latina. Venice, 1562, 8°. 

1 V. vol. ii. Epp. ad Paullum 3. 

2 Julius Caesar Scaliger (1484-1558). Studied at Bologna, 
and after a brief career as a soldier he devoted the whole of 
his life from 1525 onwards to learning. His pursuit of classical 
studies is, perhaps, chiefly marked by his attacks upon the 
' Ciceronianus ' of Erasmus, who paid small attention to them. 
His chief fame rests on his work as a philosopher and man of 
science. 



INTRODUCTION xxi 

care that competent masters should be appointed 
to the schools over which he had control, and 
secured their services by augmenting out of his 
private purse the salaries which they received 
from public funds. 

To the school at Carpentras itself his own fame 
gave him the opportunity of appointing a remark- 
able man, Volusenus, a young Scot, who in pursuit 
of learning had made his way from his own 
country to Paris, and planned to go forward to 
Rome, but turned aside to Carpentras to visit 
the learned bishop and to seek employment under 
his direction. The traveller presented himself 
for the first time late one night when the bishop 
was busy with his books and loth to be disturbed, 
but, having gained admission, surprised and 
delighted Sadoleto so much by his intelligence 
and courtesy that he was invited to return in the 
morning to meet some friends at an informal 
disputation in which his knowledge and ability 
might be tested. In a letter to his nephew Paullus, 
Sadoleto described his visitor as I modestus, 
placidus ' : Volusenus spoke well, ' nihil non ad 
rem, nihil non accurate et sobrie ' : his manner 
and address were worthy of Italy at her best, 
' certe enim eiusmodi modestiam, prudentiam, 
compositionem oris atque vultus, vix in Italo 
homine talem expectare potueramus ' . The letter x 
from which these passages are taken was written 
on November 6, 1535 : on the 21st of the same 

1 V. vol. ii. Epp. ad Paull. 3. Cf. George Buchanan, 
Humanist and Reformer, P. Hume Brown. Edin. 1890, 
pp. 71 and foil. 



xxii INTRODUCTION 

month Volusenus wrote an account of his inter- 
view with Sadoleto and of his appointment in 
a letter to his friend Dr. John Starkey in London. 
He announces that Sadoleto had offered him a post, 
which he accepted, justly appreciating the dis- 
tinction which the society of his patron would give 
him, noting too that the salary was to be 70 crowns 
with the prospect of an increase. ' Accepi condi- 
tionem,' he writes, ' non tarn commodi mei 
causa, quam honoris quern tanti viri contubernium 
mihi apud amicos conciliabit. Nam praeter 
literas et eloquentiam eximiam egregia est et 
prudentia et humanitate praeditus, et maiora 
mihi posthac operae pretia pollicetur.' He was 
to teach Cicero, Vergil and the elements of Greek. 
' Nescio quae Ciceronis, Vergilii, Graecaeque prae- 
terea linguae rudimenta enarraturus.' 

Sadoleto was a scrupulous and fearless critic 
of the preachers of his diocese; he rigorously 
checked the utterances of men whose teaching he 
regarded as unsound, and secured the preferment 
of men of whose knowledge, orthodoxy and piety 
he had, by examination, assured himself. He was 
not insensitive to the evils of his time, or slow 
to mark the corruption which threatened the life 
of Society and of the Church ; but he was more apt 
to build than to destroy, to make than to undo, 
and believed that the promotion of good men was 
a surer and a quicker way of reform than the 
discovery and denunciation of error. Shrewd to 
detect heresy, he was gentle in censure, and laid 
himself open with naive fearlessness to the attacks 
of critics who were united in nothing else than 
opposition to him. At the bidding of Erasmus he 



INTRODUCTION xxiii 

made himself a champion of Botzheim, 1 who had 
been accused of Lutheranism by the Bishop of 
Constance ; yet the Protestants who acclaimed 
him a friend lamented or blamed his half-hearted- 
ness in their cause, and attributed to insincerity 
the moderation of the language which he was 
constrained to use by his large sympathy with 
men to whom on a matter of conduct or of opinion 
he was opposed. By others to whom both tradi- 
tion and circumstance allied him he was suspected 
of approval or at least of toleration for doctrines 
alien and repugnant to him, on account of his 
tenderness for the men who professed and held 
them. His learning was no mere ornament to 
be put on or off : yet it was ridiculed as though 
it were an affectation ; he used the language of 
Cicero, not as a ' man of culture . . . half absently 
fingering the words, like beads on a rosary', but 
because it had become woven into the texture 
of his thoughts, because it was an instrument 
fitted quite perfectly to his purpose, a natural 
organ for his self-expression. ' Savant,' M. Joly 
calls him, ' savant sans pedantisme, Chretien sans 
intolerance, philosophe sans orgueil ' ; and dis- 
tinguishing him from most of the controversialists 
of his own (or, may we not think, of other ?) 
times, he adds : ' La plupart des contemporains 
defendent la religion comme une institution poli- 
tique : Sadolet comme une loi faite seulement pour 
les ames ' . 

Consistency is the virtue of mean minds ; they 
buy it with niggardly lavishness at the cost of 

1 See P. S. Allen, Erasmi Epistolae 1. 1 and note. Oxford. 
1906. 



xxiv INTRODUCTION 

spontaneity, and are paralysed by the chill 
treasure which they hug to their hearts. Sadoleto 
was Churchman and Humanist ; he could afford 
to smile if some critics deplored his orthodoxy, 
while others found in him ' the eloquent apostle 
of a cultured unbelief ' , the restorer of Paganism 
(he sometimes swore by ' Jupiter '), the high 
priest of a religion of Nature. He smiled still, 
when even his friends, provoked by his very 
temperance, hurled hot accusations against him. 
Sadoleto had seen and, having seen, confessed 
virtues in Clement VII. Sturm 1 , at once accused 
him of lying. It is the excellent Latin of his 
antagonist that Sadoleto lingers on in his reply : 2 
a common taste for letters is ' conciliatrix bene- 
volentiae '. He gently reproaches Sturm for his 
violence, and professes himself ' plane benevolum 
et ex animo fautorem', not only of Sturm, but also 
of Melanchthon and of Bucer. If he strikes, his 
blow is directed with unerring precision by his 

1 Johannes Sturm (1507-89). Among his works are : 

1. De liter arum ludis rede aperiendis liber. Strasburg, 

1538, 4°- 

2. De amissa dicendi ratione et quomodo ea recuperanda sit 

libri duo. Ibid. 1538, 4 . 

3. In partitiones oratorias Ciceronis dialogi quatuor. Ibid. 

1549, 8 °- 

4. Prolegomena h. e. praefationes in optimos quosque utriusque 

linguae scriptores. Zurich, 1541, 8°. 

5. De imitatione oratoria libri tres, cum scholis. Strasburg, 

1574, 80. 

6. De universa ratione elocutionis rhetoricae libri quatuor. 

Strasburg, 1576, 8°. 

7. Anti-pappi quatuor. Neustadt, 1580-1, 4 . 

2 V. vol. iv. placed after the Table of Contents and immedi- 
ately before the page numbered 1. 



INTRODUCTION xxv 

humour ; but he leaves no wound. Noisy and 
barbaric onslaughts may be left for Luther 1 ('hoc 
unius Lutheri proprium esse; irruere in omnes 
homines videlicet cum impetu et clamore'). The 
letters which passed between Sadoleto and Erasmus 
are happy memorials of a noble friendship. ' Quis 
esse possit tarn moestus ', writes Erasmus 2 in thanks 
for a letter he had received from his friend, ' quern 
illae literae tuae non exhilararent ? ' 

Sadoleto mingles praise with mild but unhesi- 
tating rebuke in a letter 3 of February 12, 1530. 
He compliments Erasmus on his commentary 
on Psalm lxxxv; if he sends his own work on 
Psalm xciii, it is a gift YaX/ceoi> avrl ^pvcreiov : 
but he blames Erasmus for allowing himself to 
be angered by reviewers, often prejudiced and 
ignorant, and still more for being drawn into 
copious and bitter reply. He begs him to be more 
cautious too in his utterances, to save his great 
powers for constructive work and for the defence 
of accepted truths ; and not to expend them on 
polemics which will probably be misunderstood 
by the good, and give the wicked occasion to 
blaspheme. In a long and interesting letter a 
year later Erasmus returns to the subject. 4 He 
is grateful for his friend's commendation, and 
marvels at a modesty which makes him blush 
for himself and his own work : ' Quod tuarum 
virtutum tarn parcus ac prope dixerim malignus 
aestimator, plena, ut aiunt, manu tantum laudis 

1 ' Whenever I pray, I pray for a curse on Erasmus.' 
Table Talk of Luther, § 672, p. 283, trl. Hazlitt (Bohn, 1857). 

2 L. Ep. 733. 3 V. vol. i. Epp. IV. 1. 
4 L. Ep. 1094. 



xxvi INTRODUCTION 

in meam effundis mediocritatem, ne credas te 
prorsus operam ludere ; emcis enim ut et te magis 
magisque suspiciam, et ipse mihi vehementer 
displiceam, reputans me non minus animi modestia 
quam caeteris ornamentis omnibus longo abs te 
intervallo relinqui'. He had already half con- 
sciously offered an excuse for his irritability — 
he had been under the treatment of doctor after 
doctor, each more terrible and less competent 
than the last, and now he has become the victim 
of a surgeon ' vel apud Scythas immanis ' . But 
the critics have been worse than the physicians ; 
their perversity it would be wrong to overlook. 
If they only attacked his scholarship or complained 
of his manners, not a word would he say ; but if 
he does not rebut charges of impiety, it will be 
supposed that he admits them — ■ Impiorum dog- 
matum auctor', ' Pontificiae dignitatis eversor', 
' Scripturarum clkiv^tuv f alsarius ' , ' Schismatis 
molitor - — with these titles he was assailed. 
■ What ', he asks, ' was I to do ? A horse defends 
himself with his heels, a dog with his teeth, a bull 
with his horns, a bee with her sting — a dove takes 
to flight. I am no dove. My weapon is my pen.' 
No, he will strike when he is struck, though with 
Sadoleto's plea for moderation in the statement of 
matters which may be disputed — the nature, for 
instance, and the occasion of veneration to be paid 
to Saints — he is quite ready to agree. But he 
loves Sadoleto, and would not have him altered. 
He ends with thanks renewed for the letter. 
' Hanc tuam epistolam, si quid mihi credis, pluris 
facio, quam si misisses talentum auri magnum.' 



INTRODUCTION xxvii 

Sadoleto's house was open to visitors and travel- 
lers, and he maintained, with discreet liberality, the 
indigent and the afflicted. He was thrifty, not to 
save, but to use his money ; the spectacle of a priest 
saving and amassing money was horrible to him ; 
his own expenditure exactly balanced his revenue. 

Known as a man who sought no personal 
interest or profit, he was consulted as much about 
matters of government and administration as about 
affairs which might naturally fall within the 
purview of a bishop. Francis I visiting Lyon 
made the acquaintance of Sadoleto, and soon 
offered him a position of distinction and rich 
emolument. This the bishop declined, protesting 
that the reason which had drawn him from Rome 
to his diocese must keep him in it. His conduct 
won the approval both of the king himself and 
of his attendants, and once more the high estima- 
tion, the veneration indeed, in which Sadoleto 
was held served his diocese. In 1541 the army of 
the king was marching against the Duke of Savoy, 
and its route lay by Carpentras. An outrage 
committed by some of the king's soldiers roused 
the people ; some of the soldiers were killed ; 
their leader, William of Furstenberg, prepared 
to avenge them. The intervention of the bishop 
saved Carpentras. 

When Paul III, on the death of Clement VII 
(1534), became Pope, Sadoleto was called back to 
Rome to discuss with a small group of men, 
chosen for their eminence and the variety of their 
experience, the best means of restoring to the 
Church her ancient authority. The need of reform 



xxviii INTRODUCTION 

was patent, but the consultations seemed likely 
to end in nothing better than vague resolutions, 
and Sadoleto was preparing to return to Carpen- 
tras, when he was elected (1536) to the Cardinalate, 
a dignity attained at the same time by Caraffa. 
His inclination was to escape from the burdens and 
honours of this great office, but he was persuaded 
that he ought to remain in Rome. The delibera- 
tions in which he had already borne a part were 
more formally renewed, for the Pope appointed 
a commission of nine men to consider and prepare 
a report upon the reform of the Church. Sadoleto, 
who was elected to take part in the counsels, was 
associated with Contarini, 1 Caraffa, Reginald Pole, 2 

1 Gasparo Contarini (148 3-1 542). One of the pupils of 
Pomponazzi at Padua. Repeatedly chosen as ambassador of 
the Republic of Venice, his native city. He was created 
Cardinal in 1535. He was one of those who tried to mediate 
between the Church and the Protestant Reformers, being 
praised and blamed by both alike. He was the author of 
several works on theological and ecclesiastical subjects. 

2 Reginald Pole (1500-58). Cardinal and Archbishop of 
Canterbury. Of royal blood on his mother's side. Studied at 
Oxford under W. Latimer. In 1521 he was sent by Henry VIII 
to Italy, where he studied at Padua for a year, and later 
formed- friendships with Leoniceno, Sadoleto, Bembo, and 
other scholars. He corresponded with Erasmus, and was 
everywhere treated with distinction as a kinsman of the King 
of England. He returned to England in 1527 after visiting 
Rome. He subsequently spent many years in Italy, becoming 
intimate with Lazzaro Bonamici, Gasparo Contarini, and 
Pietro Caraffa, and many other distinguished men. In 1536 
he was summoned to Rome by Paul III, who insisted on his 
taking orders in order to be made a Cardinal. 

The part he played in English history is sufficiently well 
known, but it may be mentioned that in 1539 he took refuge 



INTRODUCTION xxix 

Fregoso, Aleandro, 1 Ghiberti, 2 Cortese, 3 and 

at Carpentras, where he was staying when Henry VIII had 
an Act of Attainder passed against him. On December n, 
1555, he took over the administration of the see of Canterbury. 
The story of his strained relations with his old friend Caraffa, 
now Paul IV, may be read with much else concerning him in 
the Dictionary of National Biography. He died on the same day 
as Mary Tudor, November 17, 1558. 

1 Girolamo Aleandro (1480-1542). Scholar and Cardinal. 
He learned Latin, Greek, Hebrew, Chaldean, Arabic. At the 
age of 24 he had made his mark as a man of learning. He 
was the friend of Aldus Manutius and Erasmus. He became 
Professor of Literature in Paris in 1508 on the invitation of 
Louis XII. In 1519 Leo X appointed him Librarian to the 
Vatican, and in 1520 sent him on a special mission to Germany 
to oppose the heresy of Luther. His disapproval of the 
supposed lenience of Erasmus to the views of Protestant 
reformers led to some breach in their friendship. He was 
made Archbishop of Brindisi by Clement VII, and Cardinal by 
Paul III. 

Among his works are : 

1. Lexicon graeco-latinum. Paris, 1512, fol. 

2. Tabulae sane utiles Graecarum Musarum adyta compendio 

ingredi volentibus. 1513 (?), 4 . 

2 Giovanni Matteo Ghiberti (1495-1543). Born at Palermo. 
Secretary to Clement VII. After the sack of Rome in 1527 he 
was one of the hostages given for the ransom of the Pope. As 
Archbishop of Verona he encouraged learning and a high 
standard of public morals. He established a printing-press 
at Verona, from which, among other notable works, several 
editions of the Fathers were issued. His collected works were 
published at Verona in 1733, 4°. 

3 Gregorio Cortese (1483-1548). Born at Modena. Studied 
at Padua and Bologna. In 1542 Paul III made him Bishop 
of Urbino and Cardinal. He is said to have been a man of 
profound learning and of a gentle temper in controversy, 
though he maintained a strict rule over the religious institu- 
tions in his province. 



xxx INTRODUCTION 

Tommaso Badia, 1 most of them,.like himself, mem- 
bers of the Oratory of Divine Love. Their proposals, 
embodied in theiCqnsultMPi'delectorum Cardinalium 
et ftrelatorum de Emendanda Ecclesia, were marked 
by courage and insight. Reform, it was boldly 
urged, must mean the re- establishment and re- 
enforcement of discipline within the Church herself ; 
only for grave reason must the operation of the 
law be deflected or checked ; dispensation must 
not be a thing to be bought and sold. 

The recommendations of the commission an- 
nounced in 1538 were as barren of definite and 
immediate results as those of many a less dis- 
tinguished and famous committee ; but they 
were not without influence. They served, at 
least, to make clear the lines of the division already 
widening between parties soon to be violently 
opposed. Caraffa indeed was early estranged 
from his colleagues of the Oratory of Divine Love, 
and the Consultum was placed upon the Index 
Librorum Prohibitorum in 1558, when he was Pope. 

As Cardinal, Sadoleto exhibited the qualities 
which had hitherto won for him the respect and 
goodwill of all who had known him — firmness with 

Among his works are : 

1. Tractatus adversus negantem B. Petrum apostolum Romae 

fuisse. 

2. Epistolarum familiarium liber : of which Bembo speaks 

in the highest terms in writing to Fregoso. 
1 Tommaso Badia (c. 1483-1547). Dominican. Appointed 
to attend the Diet of Worms in 1540, he distinguished himself 
by his zealous defence of the Church, and in 1542 Paul III made 
him Cardinal. There is extant his letter to Contarini about 
the conference at Worms. 



INTRODUCTION xxxi 

gentleness, humanity with courage ; willingness to 
make just and honourable concessions, reluctance 
to accept ignoble compromise. He delighted in 
conferring benefits, and especially when a kind- 
ness shown to individuals might be taken as in 
some sort a recognition of their loyalty to the 
Church. His friendly services to George, Duke of 
Bavaria, and to William of Saxony are instances. 
When the Pope set out to attempt a reconcilia- 
tion between Charles and Francis, Sadoleto went 
with him ; and though delayed at Plaisance by 
illness, joined Paul again at Nice (1538). Peace 
was not made, but a truce for ten years was con- 
cluded, and when the Pope returned to Rome, 
Sadoleto went once more to Carpentras. Yet 
again he imposed upon himself the double task 
of rebuilding the fortunes of his diocese by prac- 
tical administration, and of strengthening the 
foundations and fabric of the Church by com- 
posing a treatise, 1 De Aedifwatione Catholicae 
Ecclesiae. Reflection with him prompted action, 
and action stimulated him to reflect again and to 
write. The temper of the scholar is rarely so 
happily united with that of the statesman and 
man of affairs. His relations with his people 
he describes in three words — ' inter amantissimos 
versor '. His sojourn at Carpentras was not long ; 
he was summoned again to Rome, and the truce 
between Charles and Francis having been broken, 
he was appointed by the Pope to go as an ambassa- 
dor to the King of France, whom, it is said, he 
inclined towards peace. Another delegate from 
1 Cf. V. vol. ii. Epp. XIII. 4 and 15. 



xxxii INTRODUCTION 

the Pope, Cardinal Contarini, was sent to Spain 
to offer counsels of peace to Charles ; had his repre- 
sentations availed as much as those of Sadoleto, 
peace might have been restored. 

His embassy finished, Sadoleto spent the winter 
at Carpentras and then went to Italy. He attended 
Paul III at a conference with Charles, near Parma, 
and added his own to the entreaties of the Pope 
for peace. Charles would not agree ; but later, 
having conquered the Duke of Westphalia and 
taken possession of several French towns, his 
anger was sated, and he made peace with Francis. 

Sadoleto's joy was great. He ordered special 
services of thanksgiving in his Church, and sent 
to Charles a letter in praise of his wisdom and his 
moderation. 

Of his private life little is recorded. He is 
known to have cherished a very tender devotion 
to his mother ; he did much to advance the 
fortunes of his brothers ; he appointed his nephew x 
Paul, whose scholarship and piety he knew, as 
his assistant in the administration of his diocese, 
his frequent and prolonged absence from which 
he always lamented. While he was engaged upon 
the embassy to which we have referred, he wrote 
to his nephew, ' Ego si mihi detur optio quod 
expetam, domum cupio et reverti ad vos, et 
agere vitam cum meis amantissimis.' 2 

Sadoleto died at Rome in October 1547, nine 
months after his lifelong friend Bembo, and was 
buried, as he had wished, without any pomp, in 
the church of San Pietro on the Esquiline. 

1 Or, as otherwise stated, his ' cousin german '. Biographie 
universelle. 2 V. vol. ii. Epp. ad Paull. 10. 



INTRODUCTION xxxiii 

III 

It was our intention, when we planned this work, 
to give side by side with our version its original. 
We wished, with the Latin there in witness, to 
set forth the arguments by which we had been 
governed in our choice of words and our construc- 
tion and arrangement of sentences, and thus to 
have provided not only a commentary, which a 
translation cannot but supply, but a reasoned 
commentary on our author's language. But we 
have had to abandon, at any rate for the present, 
our hope of producing the Latin. If we are for- 
tunate in being prevented by these evil days from 
putting in his hands the materials from which a 
critic could fashion his best weapons against us, 
we are bound to regret our inability to furnish 
students with the Treatise as Sadoleto wrote it, 
for his Latin still deserves and still would win the 
admiration which it received when the book first 
appeared. Two qualities remarked and praised 
by Reginald Pole and Bembo, to whom the 
Treatise was submitted in manuscript in 1532, 
qualities not unnoticed by other and later readers, 
are conspicuous in Sadoleto' s Latin : first, its de- 
pendence upon Ciceronian usage, and second, not- 
withstanding its adaptation to purposes and to the 
expression of ideas with which Cicero was not con- 
cerned, its vitality. To have combined these 
qualities in his writing was a notable achievement 
for a man whose ambition it was to use in the 
reconstruction of a Christian society the materials 
of which his classical learning had made him the 

1754 r* 



xxxiv INTRODUCTION 

inheritor, materials in his judgement appropriate 
and therefore essential to the edifice which he 
sought to build. 

In some measure, we trust, these qualities have 
been preserved in our translation and illustrated 
by the notes which we have given, drawn as they 
are in part from the classical writers whom Sadoleto 
either directly cited or calls to mind, and in part 
from Christian writers in whom he saw, or seemed 
to see, the classical tradition reshaped and illu- 
mined by ideas which were not less dear to him, 
and lastly from some modern writers whom 
Sadoleto himself has in many ways anticipated. 

The text we have used is that of John Albert 
Tumerman, Verona, 1737-8 : 

Iacobi Sadoleti Cardinalis et Episcopi Carpen- 
toractensis . . . opera quae extant omnia. 4 . 

The earliest edition of the Treatise is that of 
Venice, 1533,' 8° ; another followed in 1534, Paris, 
8°; and a third at Lyon in 1535, 8°. It is in- 
cluded in the collected works by Sadoleto brought 
out by D. Ranstius, Frankfort, 1607. A transla- 
tion into Italian appeared at Venice in 1745. 

Our obligations are in part indicated in the notes ; 
but we ought specially to record our debts to : — 
Joly, Iitude sur Sadolet (Caen, 1857) ; Charpenne, 
Traite d' 'education du Cardinal Sadolet (Paris, 1855). 
Mr. Woodward's Education during the Renascence 
(Cambridge, 1906) ; Dr. Sandys' History of Classical 
Scholarship (Cambridge, 1908), and his Harvard 
lectures • and S. Ritter, Un Umanista Teologo 
(Rome, 1912). 

We have had recourse to many chapters of the 



INTRODUCTION xxxv 

Cambridge Modem History, and principally to 
J ebb's The Classical Renaissance (ch. xvi), and 
more often to J. A. Symonds' Renaissance in 
Italy. 

Most of all we have resorted to Mr. P. S. Allen's 
Erasmi Epistolae (Oxford, 1906-13), and to Mr. 
Allen himself, whose help and advice have always 
been most generously placed at our disposal. 

It is a great pleasure further to express here our 
thanks for the aid given us upon perplexing 
problems in the translation by Dr. Postgate : with- 
out his counsel our version would have been the 
poorer ; for its imperfections the responsibility 
is ours. 

Not less sincere are the thanks which we desire 
to express to the Delegates of the Clarendon Press 
for undertaking this work at the present time, and 
to their readers for the patient care which they 
have bestowed upon it. 



c 2 



ANALYSIS 



PAGE 
3 

3 

4 
4 
5 
5 



The occasion of the Treatise .... 

Dedication . . . 

A good stock : careful breeding 

The need of training ..... 

Paullus Sadoletus — his ability and virtue . 

The Dialogue begins ..... 

Paullus begs Jacopus to put together in connected form 

his occasional observations on Education . . 6 

Jacopus agrees ....... 6 

We must begin with childhood ..... 7 

The importance of wise training in childhood . . 7 
The matter curiously neglected in the laws ... 7 
or dealt with in regard only to a special class, and even 

so unsystematically ..... 
The Greeks took greater pains over this matter . 
The legislation of Solon ..... 
Our forefathers were not neglectful in regard to the 

upbringing of children ..... 9 

We are less careful in our time. Yet the need of exact 

regulation is not less than of old ... 10 

Solon compelled fathers to bestow due care upon their 

children, and visited neglect with definite penalties 11 
The example of the wise teacher to attach supreme 

importance to the nurture of the young . . 11 
The two main divisions of the subject of Education, as 

here treated — moral and literary training . . 12 
The object of moral training . . . . .12 

and the function of letters . . . . .12 
What is the true self ? . . . . 13 

Inward perception, power of thought, reasoning and 

resolve ........ 13 

These must be kindled by the flame of knowledge and 

of letters ........ 13 



ANALYSIS 



XXXVll 



Moral training divided into two parts 
A difference between the progress of moral and that of 
literary training ...... 

An illustration offered ...... 

Appearance and reality ; form and truth . 

Paullus suggests a further illustration 

Two kinds of habit contrasted . . 

Conscious reason alone makes moral action truly virtuous 

Disciplined habit and true virtue .... 

What is the value of the lower type of habit ? 

In childhood and youth, knowledge and understanding 

are not to be expected, but trust and obedience 
The effect of imposed habit on the unformed mind which 
is yet incapable of reason ..... 

The soul divided by reason and desire 

The rule for living well — harmony between Reason and 

Desire to be established by habit 
By the kindness of heaven, the image of virtue, like 
Pygmalion's statue, takes on the spirit and life of 
virtue (wrought by habit) ..... 

Experience will change Paullus' notional assent to real 
assent ....... 

Jacopus assumes that all pupils will be like Paullus 
But what if they are troublesome ? . 
Patience and practice are the remedies to be used 
But the highest success can only be won with pupil 

naturally good and apt for study 
Let us assume that the pupil, springing from a good 
stock, and by nature good, is placed in good sur 
roundings ....... 

Education begins at birth .... 

The child to be fed at his mother's breast, if possible 
If a nurse is needed, she must be chosen for her chaste 

character and prudent mind 
She must be neither harsh nor lenient 
The waking and sleeping alarms of children 
Rocking in the nurse's arms 
The soothing influence of singing 



PAGE 

13 

13 
14 
14 
15 
16 
16 

17 
17 

17 

17 

19 

20 



20 

21 
21 
21 
22 

22 



22 
23 
23 

23 
23 
24 

24 
25 



xxxviii ANALYSIS 



PAGE 



The child must hear no evil words, and see no ugly 

gestures . . . . . ... 25 

He is taken by his mother to church and to the houses 

of kinswomen ....... 26 

The child is taught the name of God . . 26 

He sees his parents performing acts of worship . . 26 
The fear and the love of God united in the child's heart 27 
With such early training, he may make mistakes, but 

will not go far astray . . . . .28 

The father must be a pattern to his son — at any rate in 

the essentials of piety and good conduct, . . 28 
though he may desire in his son many gifts and graces 

which he does not himself possess ... 29 
The parents' example of a well-balanced mind . . 30 
If the father finds himself unequal to the task, let him 

seek a tutor to train the boy .... 30 
The tutor should be a man of real distinction . . 31 
But if the father undertakes the duty, what must be 

his equipment ? . . . . . 31 

Affection will spur him to devotion and studious care . 31 
He must keep the golden mean of self-control, even 

though he be not a philosopher . . . 31 

The child keenly observes what his father says and does 32 
The child learns by sight earlier than by hearing . 32 

The father's dress ....... 32 

The father must be guided by reason, and unmoved by 

sudden gusts of passion ..... 33 
The boy receives a tradition of dignity from the example 

of his father ....... 33 

Dignity of mind shown in dignity of gesture and carriage 33 
Consistent moderation, the supreme ornament of life, is 

the gift of philosophy ..... 34 

Philosophy is aided by experience of the world : . 34 

and experience, even without philosophy, will achieve 

much in a man naturally intelligent ... 34 
The father, reverent towards God, will among men 

adopt a manner appropriate to his company . 35 

His conversation ....... 35 



ANALYSIS xxxix 

PAGE 

His treatment of servants , . . . . • 35 

The courtesy and clemency of the father will produce 

these qualities in the son ..... 36 

Experience of good society will confirm, and philosophy 

will crown them ...... 36 

The importance of a father's example in the impression- 
able days of childhood ..... 37 

Example or precept — which is the stronger ? -37 

Improper regard for wealth ..... 39 

Excess of wealth more harmful to character than lack of it ; 40 
and the best kind of wealth is unearned, derived from 

estates ........ 40 

Extravagance and profusion and over-refinement are 

poisons of life ....... 40 

Luxury leads not only to dissipation, but — . . 40 

even to pride and cruelty ....... 41 

The world mistakes luxurious living for generous living 41 
The father must be frugal and temperate, but not mean 

or petty . ■ . . ■ . . . . 41 

Mothers and women generally apt to be too indulgent . 42 

The examples of Cyrus and Cambyses . . - 43 
Cyrus's character naturally great, but not fortified by 

philosophy. He entrusted his son to the care of 

women — with disastrous results .... 43 

Darius, unspoilt by luxury, restores the Persian power, 43 
but Xerxes, brought up by women, and unmanned by 

luxury, brought disgrace and disaster to it . . 44 

A training in the arts of hospitality .... 44 
By what standard does a youth measure the success of 

an entertainment ? . . . . . -45 

Economy without meanness, freedom without extrava- 
gance ... . . . . .45 

All this, which we may now leave, is education through 

sight — the spectacle of life well lived ... 46 

Hearing is the special and proper vehicle of instruction 46 

In speech character is revealed ..... 46 
Speech and hearing make possible the noble commerce 

of human intercourse ..... 46 



xl ANALYSIS 

PAGE 

We must go back again to early years ... 47 
Let us begin at the age of five years, when virtue first 

becomes intelligible ...... 47 

At this age a boy passes from the hands of women to the 

care of men ....... 48 

The fear of God is the beginning of education . . 48 
Reverence for God and other ' divine beings ' -49 

Honour due to parents ...... 49 

Gratitude shown by service ..... 50 

Respect shown to parents leads to a feeling of respect 

and deference for age and office .... 51 
Young children call all men ' father ' — and indeed a man 

may become a father to the young, if not by 

kindred, by kindness ...... 51 

Senators are called Fathers ..... 52 

Respect for age shown by the early Romans and by the 

Spartans ........ 52 

This respect for age has a moderating influence upon 

youth; . .53 

implanting modesty with the recognition of authority . 53 
' He blushed — all 's well ' . . . . . -53 

Shame — a divine timidity . . . . 54 

Shame is the only form of fear which is not dis- 
creditable ....... 54 

The sense of shame, therefore, is to be cultivated . 55 

The right relation of father to son .... 56 

Affection controlled by dignity ..... 57 

No excessive indulgence, but no violence or harshness 57 

Violence shown towards children is sacrilege . . 57 

Fear is a weak guardian of virtue .... 58 

The father must make generous allowance for his son's 

pleasures, . . . . ... .58 

but never yield, with weak complaisance, to mere 

caprice ........ 59 

A proper love of approbation ..... 59 

Loving or reverencing his father, the boy will show both 

pride and kindliness towards his equals in age . 60 

Thus he will win their goodwill and admiration . . 60 



ANALYSIS xli 

PAGE 

The father must distinguish between serious faults likely 
to damage the character, and those which are the 
result of the fermentation of youth . . . 61 
How to deal with faults of each kind 61 

The boy as critic of himself . . . , .62 

Flogging forbidden — except for a slave, who improves 
with beating, and whose chastisement affords a 
salutary lesson to the son ..... 63 

But there is little danger for a boy brought up as we 

have proposed . . . . . . .64 

The boy's companions ...... 64 

Relations with the servants of the household . . 64 

Undesirable acquaintances to be warned off — . . 65 
but a boy must have suitable companions of bis own 

age 65 

The aid of a diligent tutor in safeguarding a boy . 65 

His home tradition will become a part of himself . 65 

He will delight in the results of his good training, and 

try to further and multiply them by his own efforts 66 
Youthful dignity combined with cheerfulness and 

modesty ........ 66 

The spread of a good tradition benefits the whole com- 
munity ........ 66 

The force and scope of youthful example ... 67 
Still the boy has only good habits, the shadow of Virtue : 

Virtue herself must be added .... 67 

Philosophy gives Virtue her final perfection . . 68 

Truth — the supreme source of a well-ordered and truly 

blessed life ....... 68 

The province of Truth includes both knowledge and 

conduct ........ 69 

The relation of Truth to morality and philosophy . 69 
Truth not only illuminative but creative ... 70 
The light of reason ....... 71 

The lower form of virtue, based on discipline and precept, 
is brightened by a borrowed gleam from the higher 

light 71 

There are those who despise and revile Philosophy . 71 



xlii ANALYSIS 



PAGE 



a 



Paullus begs Jacopus to complete the defence which he 

has undertaken of Philosophy .... 72 
Perhaps the course of our inquiry has been divinely 

directed ........ 73 

We return to the province of Moral Discipline . . 73 

Two kinds of falseness ...... 73 

The first is self-deception ...... 73 

The results of ignorance and self-deception ... 74 
The remedy is to be found in philosophy directed by 

religion . . . . . . -75 

Paullus' ignorance is that of a man ready to learn . 76 
The consciousness and the confession of ignorance 

constitute the first truth of Philosophy . . 76 
The second kind of falseness — the deception of others — 76 
which, springing from self-deception, has become a habit, 

a convention, and pervades society 77 

Ingenious fraud often commended, though secretly 

detested even by those who practise it . . . 78 
The tribute paid by the world to Truth and the truthful 

man ........ 78 

The importance of early training in sincere utterance 

and sincere action ...... 7.9 

There is nothing viler than the hypocrisy of conduct . 79 
The hypocrite is easily detected . . . • 79 

Even in jest there should be respect for truth, and a 

sense of proportion . . . . .80 

Imitation and deception ...... 80 

Imitation and virtue . . . . . ' . 81 

Our system does not forbid merriment, still less sport 

and manly exercises . . . . . .81 

But in festivity and amusement there must be that 

restraint which is the secret of propriety . . 82 
The youth trained in our system will become a leader 82 
The influence of Paullus himself on his contemporaries 

cited in evidence ...... 83 

The instruction of youth in letters and the liberal arts . 84 
The shrine of Apollo and the Muses : the perfection of 

the Trinity ....... 84 



ANALYSIS xliii 

PAGE 

' Classical ' and ' Christian ' phraseology ... 84 

The art of speech — necessary for human intercourse . 85 

The third and last act in our argument ... 86 

Example — principle ....... 86 

The boy must learn to speak fluently and correctly, 

before he learns to read ..... 87 
He will imitate and emulate others who are a little in 

advance of himself ...... 87 

He must be allured to a love of reading ... 87 

There must be appetite for learning .... 87 

A tutor should be appointed, even though the father be 

a man of liberal culture . . . .. .88 

Difficulty of finding a good tutor — specialists may be 

had, but men of real and comprehensive learning 

are rare ........ 88 

The tutor shall exact the ' daily tale ' of reading and 

writing, but without harshness .... 89 

The elements of instruction — reading and writing . 89 

Reading aloud ........ 89 

Paraphrase . . . . . . . .90 

Greek as well as Latin necessary for a pupil who is to be 

trained to the highest form of virtue ... 90 
The elements of religion to be taught with the first 

lessons in Latin and Greek . . ... 90 

Pregnant maxims of high authority .... 91 

Grammar follows next — its scope — sometimes impro- 
perly extended by grammarians .... 92 

Apollonius and Herodianus ..... 92 

Donatus and Servius ...... 93 

We must look rather to the capacity of the pupil than 

to the extent of the subject .... 93 
Elaborate grammatical discussions unsuitable for 

a boy ........ 93 

The teaching of grammar ... . . . -93 

Sounds . . . . . . ... -94 

Parts of speech . . ........... 94 

Declension and conjugation ..... 95 

Grammar best taught by the practical application of rules . 95 



xliv 



ANALYSIS 



PAGE 



The reading of good authors not only in prose, but in 
verse. The quantity of syllables, and the laws of 
scansion are to be appreciated with nice sensibility 
Grammar built upon two foundations — the common 
practice of speech, and the authority of learned 
writers in the past ...... 

Once well grounded in grammar, the boy can move 
freely and fearlessly in any field .... 

The student approaches Rhetoric .... 

Cicero has said all that can be said about Rhetoric . 

Cicero is not only to be read ; he is to be absorbed . 

But other authors, both Greek and Latin, are also to be 

studied ........ 

Wide and varied reading establishes the judgement 
To judge is to select, and the student's reading must be 
large enough to provide him with materials for 
selection . . . 

Experience of men and of the world, together with 
knowledge of books, needed for developing judge- 
ment ........ 

Pleasure as well as advantage to be got from reading . 
Demosthenes and his style 
Aeschines .... 

Lysias ..... 

Isocrates .... 

Historians not less than orators to be 
Uses of historical study . 
The Poets — a sacred race . 
Their power over the mind of man 
Plato and the Poets . 
Poetry the principal element in music, 
speak .... 

Paullus acknowledges his debt to the 

both of style and conduct . 
Homer and Vergil compared 
Terence ..... 

The genius of good taste . 

Plautus — his ease of diction and wealth of style 



read 



of which we must 



poets, as teachers 



95 



96 

97 
97 
98 

98 

99 
99 



100 



100 
100 
101 
102 
102 
102 
103 
103 
103 
103 
103 

104 

105 
105 
106 
106 
106 



. io8 

. 108 

. 108 

final object 109 

. 109 

. 109 



109 

no 
no 



ANALYSIS xlv 

PAGE 

Tragedy and comedy — the influence and quality of each 107 
Lawless and ribald verse-writers not to be included 
among the poets . ... 

False music, not to be admitted 

The function of true music 

We must not forget that philosophy is our 

Grammar the starting-point in early years 

Rhetoric claims the rest of life . 

Rhetoric at last is merged in Philosophy, as a river is 

merged in the sea 
Other arts are like tributaries . 
Sophists — masters of civic wisdom 
Gymnastic and music bring the natural impulses of the 
body and of the mind under the sway of law — 
securing grace and health of the body and balance 
of the mind ....... in 

Gymnastic exercises, past and present . . . 111 
Dancing, common to gymnastic and music . . .112 

The effect of Rhythm on the mind .... 113 

Music and poetry combined ..... 113 

Tradition in music to be respected. Innovations to be 

closely scrutinized . . . . . . 113 

Words, Rhythm and Tune — the pre-eminent importance 

of the words . . . . . . . 114 

Words and ideas — the groundwork of Music . .114 
Melody to be considered after the theme has been 

chosen ........ 115 

The measure must be appropriate to the subject-matter 115 
The voice of the singer or reciter . . . .116 

The noble compact between virtue and pleasure . .116 

The music of our own time has scarcely any foundation 

in word or thought . . . . . .116 

Degeneracy in letters and music wrought the general 

ruin of Greece ....... 117 

The evil spread from Greece to Rome . . . 117 

Ancient compared with modern music . . .118 
Dance and ballet may be allowed as recreation and 

relaxation for youth after toil . . . .118 



xlvi ANALYSIS 

PAGE 

But they must soon be given up, and so must singing, 
though the mature may listen to the performances 
of musicians ....... 118 

To hear music is a relief from the cares of public respon- 
sibility as well as from the labour of study . . 119 
Arithmetic joins the other disciplines .... 119 

The elements of Arithmetic must be acquired for 
practical use, and some attempt must be made to 
get the Theory of Number ..... 120 

Arithmetic a generous art — disengaging the mind from 
external things, and setting it upon the contem- 
plation of eternal truth . . . . .120 

Commercial arithmetic ...... 121 

The other ' Mathematical ' Arts : Music, Geometry, 

Astrology . . . . . . . . 121 

The praise of geometry . ... . . . 122 

Its scope, ........ 122 

and its manifold uses ...... 122 

The divine art of geometry . . . . .124 

Mystical absorption in geometrical truth . . . 125 

Paullus is alarmed at the number of subjects which he 

is to learn . . ... . . . 125 

What aid to the understanding of Philosophy is to be 

got from all these arts ? . . . . .126 

All the arts are members of one body — which is Philo- 
sophy herself . . . . . . .126 

We climb step by step through many disciplines to the 

highest plane of the mind's activity . . . 127 
The several arts- contribute to free the mind from the 
dominion of sensible things, and lift it to the region 
of Truth . . . . . . . . 128 

Some mathematics must be acquired by students of 

Philosophy ....... 128 

Vulgar, dull and sluggish minds are baffled by the 

subtlety of things of the mind .... 129 

But an acute and well-trained mind is overcome neither 
by the magnitude nor by the number of the subjects 
with which it is confronted .... 129 



ANALYSIS xlvii 

PAGE 

Learned men of old time . . ■ . . . . 129 

Gorgias of Leontini . . . , . . . 130 

Hippias ......... 131 

Examples of complete wisdom and knowledge — 

Plato, Aristotle, Theophrastus, Polemon, Arcesilaus, 

Chrysippus, Carneades . . . . . 132 

Varro and Cicero . . . . . . .132 

Examples from our own time — Bembo . . . 132 

Aleander . . . . . . . . 133 

Erasmus .......... 133 

Alciato ......... 133 

Gregorio Lilio . . . . . . . 133 

Giovanni Francesco Pico ...... 133 

Different subjects pursued by a common method of 

investigation ....... 134 

Some men, indeed, spend their whole life upon a single 

art 134 

We must pursue each several art far enough for our 

main purpose, which lies beyond it 135 

Absorption in a single subject natural and delightful . 135 
But we should be content with a reasonable knowledge 

and command of the subordinate arts, and press on 

towards Philosophy ...... 135 

We may return to our special subject, enriched and 

quickened by the resources of Philosophy . . 136 

Paullus longs for Philosophy ..... 136 

He has not far to travel ...... 136 

Astronomy ........ 137 

The desire for knowledge springs from wonder, and the 

spectacle of the starry heavens prompts wonder . 138 

The open plains of Philosophy reached at last . . 138 

Aristotle's Ethics — an introduction .... 138 
Philosophy breathes a soul into formal and habitual 

rectitude of conduct . . . . . .138 

Dialectic is needed too (with logic) .... 139 

A method of Science ...... 139 

The weapons of Dialectic must be used by trained 

skill ........ 139 



xlviii ANALYSIS 

PAGE 

The best authors to be constantly read ; especially 

Plato and Aristotle ...... 140 

Do not use Latin versions of Greek philosophers . . 140 

False philosophers ....... 140 

The Art of Life, the gift of Philosophy . . . 140 
Those who, after philosophic training, turn to any 
other pursuit, will have gained efficiency and 
determination ....... 141 

Those who make Philosophy their habitation are to be 

deemed godlike ....... 141 






SADOLETO 

A TRANSLATION OF HIS 
DE PUERIS RECTE INSTITUENDIS 



1754 



B 



SADOLETO 
ON EDUCATION 

Euripides says, I think in the Andromache, The ocoa- 
that a husband finds delight not so much in the Treatise : 
physical as in the spiritual beauty of his wife. Dedlcatlon - 
How great, then, must be your joy, William du 
Bellay, best of all my friends, you who have lately 
married a woman to whose distinguished virtues 
and endowments of mind is added a loveliness of 
face and form worthy of her faultless manners . And 
indeed she had those from whom to learn them, 
born of a very noble family and trained in those 
daily habits of life which breathe all the dignity 
and refinement of high lineage. It has surely been 
your fortune — to take your own expression of 
your feeling — to possess such a wife as you have 
always longed for. For you also, born of an ancient 
and noble house, descended from a distinguished 
line of ancestors, have by your own achievements 
won decorations ampler and more notable than 
those with which nature and fortune had already 
liberally endowed you. It was, I know, only right 
that you should take as your mate and companion 
one whose genius and goodness answer your own 
character and culture. 

Special praise is due to the wisdom of Francis, 
our king, who, with forethought worthy of so 
great a prince, adopts a method of dealing with 

B 2 



4 SADOLETO 

human beings which others usually reserve for the 

breeding of horses and dogs, and with the utmost 

A good diligence examines the stock of both the con- 

stock * c3,rG~ 

fui breeding, tracting parties, with intent to choose such fit 
persons to enter the holy bond of matrimony as 
that from good parents may spring children 
capable of doing service to their king and 
country. 

The need of But this is not enough. Some kind of training 
seems necessary to secure the due nurture and up- 
bringing of boys and young people. I lately made 
an attempt to write something on the subject by 
way of providing fathers with a system and a plan 
for the sound and liberal instruction of their 
children, and I have resolved to dedicate this effort 
to you in the hope that it may serve as a token of 
my affection for you, though you yourself least of 
all men stand in need of any such admonition. For 
no one who desired to write upon the proper up- 
bringing of children could fail to find in your house- 
hold more full and forcible illustration of his subj ect 
than he could himself supply for the instruction 
of others. And here I often marvel at your father's 
good fortune or virtue, or, to put it more truly, at 
both of these. For he brought up and nurtured 
many children, and gave them all alike, by the 
noblest and most distinguished discipline and 
culture of mind and character, such a training in 
the highest intellectual and moral qualities, that 
they seem to have been refined in the same 
furnace, and fashioned from the same pattern of 
physical beauty and moral dignity. Yet I have 
allowed myself to think that this fruit of my 



ON EDUCATION 5 

studious meditation might not be unacceptable 
to you. Our friendship will, I hope, give it some 
place, your recent marriage will make it opportune. 1 
Indeed I pray God that it may be your destiny to 
have children, who shall repeat and maintain for 
generations to come the standard of excellence 
which they have inherited from their father and 
their grandfather. 

But to come, at length, to my discourse on the 
proper training of children. As I was sitting not 
long ago at midday in leisurely reflection, there 
came to me Paullus Sadoletus — a young man, Pauiius 
I think I may claim, devoted to the most liberal ^ d abmty" 
studies. My nephew, placed in my hands by his and virtue. 
father, I brought him up as if he were my own 
son, and tried to train him in sound learning and 
good conduct. 

This was an undertaking, however, which was 
made light and pleasant to me, both by his supreme 
ability, and also by his disposition, already inclined 
as it was by nature and habit to every kind of 
excellence of heart and of judgement. 

He had come to me on this occasion very 
much earlier than was his wont — for a certain 
hour was fixed at which he used daily to listen 
to me on Aristotle's Ethics. So I began to ques- 
tion him. 

Jac. How is it, Paullus, that you are here so The 
early ? Have you mistaken the hour, or have begins.* 16 
you some news ? 

Paul. Nothing much, uncle; or rather 'father', 

1 Cf. the dedication of Quintilian's Institutes of Oratory to 
Victorius Marcellus, Inst. Or., Prooemium, § 6. 



SADOLETO 



Paullus 
begs Jaco- 
pus to put 
together in 
connected 
form his 
occasional 
observa- 
tions on 
Education. 



Jacopus 
agrees. 



fs 



if I may find a name which better becomes not 
indeed our physical kinship, but our more sacred 
spiritual connexion and my filial regard for you. 
I came to you deliberately a little early, not because 
I was bringing any news to you, but rather looking 
for something from you. 

Jac. What is it then that you look for from me ? 
Come, tell me, for it will never be my wish to 
say no to your right desire. 

Paul. I know that, even without your assurance, 
father. Your actions prove that. But just now 
when your servant told me, on my asking, that 
you were at leisure, I thought it was not an 
unsuitable moment to beg you to put together, 
in a single discourse, all the counsels which you 
have been in the habit of giving, in scattered and 
fragmentary form, upon the subject of the right 
training of youth ; for I long to have, if I may so 
call it, a compendium of your opinions in this 
kind ; from it I might learn to fashion myself 
to the pattern of goodness — to become what you 
would wish me to be. But only if this is not 
troublesome to you, and if you do not feel that 
something else has a first claim. 

Jac. Troublesome to me ? And shall I put 
anything before such a task ? Is there anything 
in all the world that I should more fervently 
covet than that you should be good and learned. 
For I think I understand your request — you want 
me to expound everything that concerns the train- 
ing of character and the establishment of sound 
learning. 

Paul. Yes, it is just that ; that is my wish. 



ON EDUCATION 7 

Jac. But consider, Paullus ; if we are to take We must 
the matter in hand and follow it out in its proper chSSwod 1 
sequence, we must make a beginning with childhood 
itself. 1 For no one can be properly trained as 
a youth, who has been badly brought up as a child ; 
for as the character and quality of a tree come 
from its roots, so a well-conditioned, well-balanced 
youth is the fruit of childhood. It is remarkable The impor- 
that this early stage of life, in which a slip and |j^ e of 
a mistake are most easily made, has been less training in 
than any other handled and considered by our _ 

J J lhe matter 

present laws ; 2 no care is taken to ensure the curiously 
cultivation of childhood as a public duty, though i^\ht laws, 
it is on this and no other foundation that the 
character of our citizens, and the soundness of our 
states is based. 

For guiding our citizens in their actions and 
disputes among themselves, our enactments are 
precise and firmly established. But upon the 

1 Cf. Plato, Laws, 765-6 : ' Of all the great offices of state 
that [of Minister of Education] is the greatest ; for the first 
shoot of any plant, if it makes a good start towards the 
attainment of its natural excellence, has the greatest effect on 
its maturity ; and this is not only true of plants, but of animals 
wild and tame, and also of men.' Cf. Locke, Thoughts on 
Education: ed. R. H. Quick, Cambridge Press, p. 20: 'The 
Difference to be found in the Manners and Abilities of Men 
is owing more to their Education than to any Thing else . . . 
great Care is to be had of the forming of Children's Minds, and 
giving them that Seasoning early, which shall influence their 
Lives always after.' 

2 Cf. Aristotle, Ethics, x. 9. 8 : 'To get right guidance from 
youth up in the road to virtue is hard, unless we are brought 
up under suitable laws. . . . Our nurture, then, should be 
prescribed by law, and our whole way of life . . .' 



8 SADOLETO 

questions which embrace .practically all others 
there is a strange silence : upon the choice of 
a profession, upon the rearing of children, upon 
parental responsibilities, upon goodness and man- 
ners, what methods of conduct are to be adopted 
and what rejected — upon all these not a word; 
unless we reckon the counsels laid down in regard 
to the teaching of righteousness and ceremonial 
observance in the Pontifical Law for the benefit 
ordeaitwith of youth, or rather for that of a certain class, 
only to a for those, namely, who are entering upon the 
special class, p r i es thood — and even these counsels, such as 

and even so r ' 

unsystema- they are, are not grouped and arranged in orderly 

"tic3,llv 

fashion, beginning with what is suitable for child- 
hood. Indeed their authors would seem rather 
to have had some splendid but fitful inspiration 
than to have set forth a careful and systematic 
scheme. 
The Greeks j^g Greeks have been at greater pains — not so 
greater much in the practice and precept of virtuous 
thif 8 actions (in this our fathers of old are second to 

matter. no people under heaven, as is gloriously testified 
by the memorials of our past) as in the preservation 
and transmission to posterity of their excellent 
institutions. But as for us, we have allowed the 
law of the XII Tables — that seed-plot of all 
equity and right — the resolutions of our popular 
assembly, the decrees of the Senate, and the 
magisterial edicts, to be submerged and swept 
away beneath the flood of endless enactments 
with which our later jurists have overwhelmed 
them. The Greeks, on the other hand, have taken 
all possible care to preserve all they could of the 



ON EDUCATION 9 

ancient codes of Draco and Solon, and even the 
maxims of Lycurgus as they are called. This 
is the more remarkable, inasmuch as for the most 
part his laws were not so much contained in written 
documents as impressed upon the minds and spirits 
of the people by the habit of obedience. But to 
return to Solon, whose legislation, wherever the edu- The legisia- 

. . tion by 

cation of the young is concerned, is so exquisitely, Solon. 
and even meticulously elaborated, that nothing 
at all which bears on that subject is omitted. 
He gives the most exact and punctilious directions 
with the most minute particularity, so that the 
question of physical exercise, the qualifications 
of a tutor, the hours of study, the selection of 
schools, the very clothing of a boy and the kind 
of companions he should choose — none of these 
things are forgotten, even to such a detail as the 
keeping of his hands within the folds of his cloak 
in public. 

But indeed, or so I am inclined to surmise, we Our fore- 
may take it that our forefathers were not less ^re not 
scrupulous in paying all possible attention to the neglectful 
training of youth, as is testified by their daily to the up- 
exercises in the field of Mars, by their regulations chadren. ° f 
for the length of military service, by the directions 
they gave about the kind of raiment suitable for 
children and for those of riper years, and the time 
at which there should be a transition from the 
bordered toga of the child to the plain white toga 
of the man, and by a host of similar customs, 
a knowledge of which may be gleaned not so much 
from the perishable parchments upon which the 
laws were written as from the chronicles and 



io SAD0LET0 

records of events that still remain to us. Hence 
it is easy to see that it was owing to the seeds of 
learning so wisely sown, to the assiduous cultiva- 
tion of the fallow land of children's fresh young 
minds, that there grew the harvest of high character 
and conduct which so richly blessed the days of 
old. 
We are less w e think ourselves superior to these precautions 

careful m r r 

our time, nowadays, and prefer to leave the intimate charge 
need of °f children's training to the individual choice of 
exact regu- parents. But how rare it is to find a parent who 

lation is f r 

not less is truly wise I For even when they have the will 
' to make their children all they ought to be, they 
do not know the way by which their end may most 
fitly be attained. In general human creatures are 
ignorant and need the light of law, a light by 
which they may be guided, if they will, or even 
constrained, against their inclination. The trou- 
bled and disordered state of manners in which we 
live to-day reminds me of a famous ode often 
quoted by our forefathers when they desired to 
extol the glories of the past and the lost liberty 
which republican Rome had once enjoyed. It 
seems to me that it were not amiss to quote 
it now. 

Paul. What ode is that, please ? 
Jac. * Viler than grandsires, sires begat 
Ourselves yet baser, soon to curse 
The world with offspring baser yet.' 1 

Paul. Ah, yes, now I remember it is Horace. 
Jac. Next we observe how stringently the code 

1 Hor. Od. iii. 6. 46, Conington's translation. 



ON EDUCATION n 

of Solon 1 compelled fathers to remember the duty Solon com- 

pelled 

of looking after their children in the manner lathers to 
prescribed by law. The dereliction of this duty ^re°upon Ue 
or neglect of this precept, either through the greed their 
which grudges the means or the wickedness which an d v i S ited 
repudiates the obligation of educating and training d2nite Wlth 
their children, was visited with explicit penalties, penalties, 
and the delinquent had reason to dread the terrors 
of a court of law, before which any one who pleased 
might summon or report him. Such a man was 
held to have lost his title even to those filial 
attentions which our common nature and humanity 
demand from children to their parents : respect 
and reverence were forfeited, no less than any 
claim to support in time of want and weakness. 
In short, the failure of a father to fulfil his statu- 
tory duties to his children deprived him of the 
sanction which the law supplied to the customary 
obligations of filial duty and gratitude. The only ex- 
ception made, and how signally humane we feel it 
to be, was that a son was bound to give decent burial 
even to such a father. For while that service did The exam- 
not confer upon the father any unmerited satis- ^^tea^her 
faction, it discharged a debt of nature which is in to attach 
accordance alike with divine and human dictates, importance 
But why do I say this ? In order that you may tureof the 
understand, Paullus, that it has always been held young. 
by the wisest men that a very careful account must 
be taken of this first stage, as being in a sense the 
porch of life and prefiguring the whole form and 
structure of the years to come. 

1 Cf. Plutarch, Solon, 22 vofiov Zypaxpev, vi<3 rpetpeiv rov 
TroLTepa fir] &Sa£ctju,evov Tiyyiqv e7ravay*c£S p-rj eTvai. 



12 SADOLETO 

Paul. I am sure that they were most prudent 
in making for our guidance ordinances so reason- 
able in themselves and so full of profit for mankind, 
and I am the more anxious for you to expound 
these principles and to draw together into a single 
view childhood and youth : it will benefit not only 
myself but, I am sure, many others also. 

Jac. A happy conjecture, Paullus ; and I accept 
this task : and since God is the source and inspira- 
tion of all good things, let us both kneel in reverent 
entreaty that He may bestow the grace of His 
Presence upon us and enable us to utter such 
things as may be pleasing to Himself and service- 
able to others. 

Paul. Let us do so. 

Jac. Our system of education, then, falls into 
The two two divisions * — the first deals with moral, the 
sk»S of V tiie secon d with literary training. Moral training 
subject of sets out with the object of ensuring that all our 
as here ' words and actions may be marked by moderation, 
morai d and anc ^ mav keep a fit and proper rule of conduct, 
literary the correct beauty of which may delight not only 
The n oDject * ne mm d of the learned but even the eyes of the 
of moral ignorant and constrain them to admiring imitation. 
Now the power, the quality of literature and of 
what we call humane studies is this : We receive 
from Nature what is central in ourselves, what 
indeed makes us truly and individually what we 
are, but in a rough and unfinished form ; it is the 
and the function of letters to bring this to its highest 
letters" 1 ° f perfection and to work out in it a beauty com- 
parable to its divine original. 

1 Cf. Cic. De Or. i. 69. 



ON EDUCATION 13 

Paul. Here surely are two glorious things, 
father, if the one enables us to become like to God 
and the other helps us to appear such. 

Jac. And yet, Paullus, it is of the utmost 
importance for you to observe and thoroughly to What is the 
grasp and understand that our true self is not this i^waS. 
body which we perceive with our eyes, this frame, perception, 

J r j > ' p OW er of 

compact of bone and sinew with covering of flesh thought, 
and vesture of skin, nor this countenance, the arS^esofve. 
chief image of ourselves whereon we are wont to 
trace the marks of our inner feelings and almost 
recognize in it the mind itself. No : our inward 
perception and power of thought, our faculty of 
reasoning and resolve, this it is that makes us 
men, and this is fashioned after the image of God, 
its Creator. In itself it is dim and feeble, save it be These must 
kindled with the flame of knowledge and of letters. b y tl ^ e 
Now as we said that in right training there are flame of 

,. . . ,. , , . . knowledge 

two divisions, literary and moral, so the training and of 
of character must in its turn be divided into two J; tter , s " 

Moral 
parts. training 

t • , , • • ■ • divided into 

Literary training progresses, so to say, m one tW o parts. 

continuous and gradual process, one step leading A difference 

to the next : but stages in the training of character progress oi 

are marked not only by reason, but also by time. ™** l f nA 

Paul. HOW SO ? literary 

Jac. Character is a composite thing, and can- 
not be treated upon a uniform plan. One element 
clearly is that which is impressed upon us by 
the careful and systematic teaching of others : 
another and a different element is that which we 
acquire for ourselves by the purposive effort of 
our own minds. 



training. 



14 SADOLETO 

Paul. Yes, but though these processes are carried 
out at different moments, is not the underlying 
principle one and the same ? 

Jac. When one of two things is endowed with 
principle and the other is devoid of principle, you 
cannot say that both are governed by one and the 
same principle. 

Paul. I should like that put more plainly. 
An iiiustra- Jac. I will try, and the better to do this, I will 
. o g er y Qu an jr] us t ra tion which may help you to 
see my argument. Tell me, then, have you seen 
in Rome the statue of Apollo, in the portico of the 
Vatican garden, that forms the chief adornment 
of the front colonnade and all the surrounding 
shrubberies ? It stands next the Laocoon group 
in the noble beauty that we all know so well. 

Paul. You mean that great tall statue, with 
the majestic appearance of a man who has some- 
what passed the time of youth, who, as though 
he had shot an arrow from his bow, seems to 
be waiting with his arm still drawn back, to see 
whether it hits the mark at which it was aimed. 
The graceful vigour and movement of the body 
and the extraordinary beauty of the face reveal 
the supreme art of the sculptor and the glory of 
his work. 

Jac. Yes, that is the statue I mean. 

Paul. I have often seen and gazed on it. 

Jac. Well, I ask you, if Apollo, the son of 

Appearance Jupiter, were exactly of that appearance, and if 

form^nd ' from him as model one traced on the marble all 

truth. the characteristics of his face and form, his gait 

and motion, his very words and tones, so that the 



ON EDUCATION 15 

outward likeness could not be more exact, but the 
figure remained devoid of mind and thought, 
should you say that the essence of Apollo was the 
same in the god himself and in the marble 
statue ? 

Paul. I begin to understand the ambiguity, 1 Pauiius 
and I am reminded of that image, that unsubstan- aTurther 
tial, strengthless phantom which was fashioned illustration, 
after the likeness of Aeneas in a hollow cloud, not 
so much by the hands of Juno as by the greatest 
of all poets in his poem. 

Jac. An excellent illustration and even more 
apposite to our subject. And if it had occurred 
to me I should not have been obliged to quarrel 
with Polycletus and, as it were, try to supplement 
the beauties of his work. For Polycletus would 
have been far more skilled than I in fashioning 
the kind of effigy we desired, finished and per- 
fected with all the resources of art, but for all 
that an effigy, something, that is, inspired not 
by its own will or volition, but merely by a 
kind of imitation : 2 and I do not suppose you will 
consider it of the same type and nature as the 
living Aeneas himself. 

Paul. Far from it. And now I think I see the 

1 Agnosco bfxwwfjiov. Cf. Quintilian, Inst. Or. viii. 2. 13. 

2 Cf . Cic. Orator, ii. 9 : ' Itaque et Phidiae simulacris, quibus 
nihil in illo genere perfectius videmus, et eis picturis, quas 
nominavi, cogitare tamen possumus pulchriora ; nee vero 
ille artifex cum faceret Iovis formam aut Minervae, contem- 
plabatur aliquem e quo similitudinem duceret, sed ipsius in 
mente insidebat species pulchritudinis eximia quaedam, 
quam intuens in eaque defixus ad illius similitudinem artem 
et manum dirigebat.' 



16 SADOLETO 

difference between these two kinds of habit, the 
Two kinds one imposed from without and bearing the impress 
contrasted °^ another's will, without initiative, almost lifeless, 
the phantom of a real habit, a mere picture pen- 
cilled on a tablet that is outside oneself : the 
other the true offspring and very product of reason 
itself, acting designedly, conscious of its own 
function and duty, and Capable of maintaining its 
existence as the former type of habit never is. 
So while that is mere shadow of the truth, this is 
truth itself. 
Conscious Jac. I see you understand, and are taking a true 
makes a ° ne l me °f distinction : for in the case of a child, or 
m ° ral . . a man who is no better than a child and has no 

action truly . 

virtuous, independence of mind and judgement, such a mere 
copy of moral action brought in from without 
lacks the force of a settled routine and has no 
proper claim to be called virtue. 

Paul. I agree. 

Jac. Nay, more, I find that we have even 
different words and expressions for describing 
these two things, calling the habit that is imposed 
from without disciplined training, but that which 
is our own personal choice, virtue. 

Paul. How so ? 

Jac. 1 Discipline consists in habituation to the 

1 Cf. Aristotle, Ethics, vi. 13. 5 : ' Virtue is not simply 
a formed habit in accordance with right reason, but a formed 
habit implying right reason ' (ju,era Xoyov) ; ' The agent must 
not only be guided by reason, but by his own reason, not 
another's.' F. H. Peters, translation and note. Cf. also 
ii. 4. 3 : 'A man is not said to act justly or temperately if 
what he does merely be of a certain sort — he must also be 
in a certain state of mind when he does it ; i. e. first of all, 



ON EDUCATION 17 

authority of another's virtue : virtue in obedience Disciplined 

J . habit and 

to its Own authority. true virtue. 

Paul. Now I understand. But what need is What is the 

value of the 

there of that lower type of habit ? Why not rather lower type 

1 , . , , x x of habit ? 

look m every case to a man s own reason to iorm 
him in the best conventions ? 

Jac. What you throw out, Paullus, is a difficult 
thing to understand — especially for the young, who 
have not yet been taught by time and practice 
and a wide experience of life, how great, and 
indeed almost irresistible is the force of custom. 
It is inappropriate, nay, impossible, for that pre- 
cise and subtle idea of virtue to be instilled into 
the youthful mind, and when a man attains it 
even in advanced age we rightly call him blessed. 
But in your childhood, and even in your youth, in chiid- 
you should receive in place of knowledge and y outh an 
understanding a certain conviction, to make you knowledge 

° J and under- 

trust and obey your elders, who, as you can see, standing 

are held in high esteem ; for public opinion never ^expected, 

approves or admires for long what is at variance bu * t 1 rus J t 

. , ., , TT . and obedi- 

witn goodness and truth. How much, indeed, ence. 
habit 2 contributes to virtue is made evident by Tj 1 ? effect 

J of imposed 

the fact that the department of philosophy which habit on 
deals with virtue takes its name, not from know- 
he must know what he is doing ; secondly, he must choose it, 
and choose it for itself ; and thirdly, his act must be the 
expression of a formed and stable character.' 

1 Cf. Cic. de Nat. Deorum, i. 42. 118 : ' ut quos ratio non 
posset, eos ad ofncium religio duceret,' and Plato, Rep. 402 A. 

2 Cf. Aristotle, Ethics, ii. 1. 1 : ' Moral excellence is the 
result of habit or custom (20os), and has accordingly in our 
language received a name formed by a slight change from 
20os.' Peters' trans. 

1754 r* 



i8 



SADOLETO 



formed 
mind 
which is 
yet incap- 
able of 
reason. 



ledge or wisdom, but from the word ' mos ', and 
is called moral philosophy. We know how the 
body of an infant is fashioned and moulded to 
a certain physical habit by the nurse's hand ; * 
not less certainly is the fresh and pure mind led 
into the moral habit. in which it is trained. As 
with plants, so with characters ; while they are 
soft and impressionable, any form you will may 
be easily put upon them ; but when this form 
by use and time has grown hard, it becomes prac- 
tically unchangeable. We may complain of the 
inconsiderate arrangement of nature which sets 
the passions in a man's heart long before reason 
is born, but if so, we must use every care to ensure 
the obedience of these passions to an external 
reason, until his own proper reason comes, as 
their natural ruler whose command they will 
readily fulfil. 2 For if until that time they are 
restrained by no careful guidance, but attempt to 
win for themselves an empire in the mind, and 
do without let or hindrance whatever they will, 
reason will assuredly remonstrate with them in 



1 Plato, Rep. ii. 377 c : ' Let [mothers and nurses] fashion 
the mind with [suitable] tales, even more fondly than they 
mould the body with their hands.' 

2 Cf. Plato, Rep. in . 401 e, 402 a : 'He who has received 
this true education of the inner being will most shrewdly 
perceive omissions or faults in art and nature, and with 
a true taste, while he praises and rejoices over and receives 
into his soul the good and becomes noble and good, he will 
justly blame and hate the bad, now in the days of his youth, 
even before he is able to know the reason why ; and when reason 
comes, he will recognize and salute the friend with whom his 
education has made him long familiar.' 



ON EDUCATION 19 

vain, and make no headway whatever against 
them. 

And now, though you are still a mere boy, for 
you have just reached your eighteenth year, let 
me tell you something about this procedure and 
plan of nature — indeed, your interest and amia- 
bility encourage me. Well then, the soul of man The soul 
is divided into two parts, 1 different from one ^ason and 
another, and almost at enmity — one part belongs desire. 
to reason, the other to desire ; of these two parts 
reason is itself clear-sighted and endowed with 
light ; it is the eye of the mind, 2 discerning all 
things with the utmost clearness and accuracy; 
but the other is blind, and has no share at all in 
light. Further, each of these parts has constantly 
at its side two counsellors, 3 one to suggest, the 
other to dissuade. The counsellors of Reason itself 
and intelligence are the Good and the Bad — of 
Desire, the Pleasant, and the Painful. These four, 
then, are fellow guests living in the same house ; 
if they cannot agree and live peaceably together, 
but are violent and quarrelsome, what strivings 
and battles, what upheavals and riots do you 
suppose there will be. When Reason banishes as 
bad what Desire claims as pleasant ; or when 

1 Cf. Plato, Rep. iv. 440 for the opposition between Reason 
and Desire as elements in the soul. Sadoleto finds no place here 
for the spirited element, which Plato places between the two. 

2 Cf . J. Smith : ' True Way or Method of attaining to Divine 
Knowledge ' : The Cambridge Platonists, ed. Campagnac, 
Clarendon Press, 1901, p. 80 ; and Plotinus, Ennead.es, I. 6. 9. 

3 Cf. Plato, Laws, i. 644 : ' And each one of us has in his 
bosom two counsellors, both foolish and antagonistic ; of 
which we call the one pleasure and the other pain.' 

C 2 



Reason and what the other regards as Good and Bad ; and 

Desire to 

be estab- this result is happily effected mainly by habit and 



20 SADOLETO 

Desire finds that painful which Reason judges to 

be good, commotion and struggle ensue. What, 

then, we may ask, is the true rule for living well ? 

The rule Surely it is a system upon which Desire shall har- 

weii— monize and adjust itself to Reason, and adapt and 

between 7 un ify what it regards as Pleasant and Painful with 

Reason i 
Desire — 1 
be estab 

habit 1 by ky conduct ; for nothing can be so pleasant as 
that to which you have made yourself used. Con- 
sider your own friends and comrades, consider the 
place in which you have been brought up, the 
studies in which you are engaged ; if airy one were 
to try to draw you away from these, and turn you 
to other associates, to other studies, you can judge 
for yourself, Paullus, how hardly you would take 
it, for a new and unwonted mode of life you would 
think hateful, whereas you glide easily and plea- 
santly in the familiar direction. Indeed, familiarity 
and unfamiliarity are the causes, the one of what 
is pleasant and the other of what is painful. If 
this is so, parents must devote themselves with 
By the whole-hearted zeal to teaching their children to 
heaven, the form the right habits. True ; habit impressed by 
image of careful government from without is not real 

virtue, like ° 

Pygmalion's virtue, but only the semblance and image of virtue ; 
takes on yet, as legend and story tell of Pygmalion's 
th ®sp int , statue of a woman, 1 by the kindnessof heaven, it 

and life of ' J ' 

virtue comes about in the course of time that this image 

by r habit). takes on the spirit and life of true virtue. 

Paul. Had I not begun by asking you a different 
question, I should gladly let you spend the whole 
1 Ovid, Met. x. 243 seq. 



ON EDUCATION 21 

day upon these subjects ; so charming, and, 
indeed, to me so entrancing are the doctrines you 
set forth. 

Jac. Yes, and they will be far more delightful to 
you, Paullus, when you prove them by experience, Experience 
and apprehend by personal use and intelligence Paullus' 
the facts which you can now only know by hearsay assent^o 
or by the exercise of your powers of reason : in real assent. 
mind you are nearer to them than in years, for 
nature disposed you to the study of virtue ; and 
nature has been aided by your father's care and 
then by my own. And now that the foundations 
of your young manhood are well and truly laid, 
all that remains is for you to endeavour to respond 
with diligent and virtuous assiduity to our hopes 
and efforts and to the large expectations which 
others have been led to form about you. 

Paul. The natural warmth of my love for such 
things has been in the first place, my father, 
encouraged by your advice and exhortations, and 
even more perhaps since I have been attracted by 
you to the study of Greek and Philosophy, to 
which I owe more pleasure than I can say. 

Jac. Excellent youth ! it is no hard task pro- Jacopus 

. . T assumes 

perly to train such spirits as yours. Let us assume that ail 
that all others are of like disposition, and first belike™ 11 
deal with the education of childhood, and then Paullus. 
of youth. 

Paul. Yes, but suppose they are not similar in But what 
disposition — suppose they bring a nature a little trouble? 16 
troublesome and unapt for the study ? some ? 

Jac. You remember, I am sure, what your own 
poet has said of toil. 



22 SADOLETO 

Paul. You mean, perhaps, when he says that 
persistent toil can vanquish all difficulties. 1 

Jac. Yes, exactly ; and one might also quote the 

common proverb that use becomes second nature. 

Paul. Yes, they say that, and it is most true. 

Patience J^ c - Put it in this way : even if the pupil's 

and . nature be something less than apt, the result of 

practice are ° r 

theremedies patient work will be that, whatever his disposition, 
to be used. ^ ^ -^ su foj ec t e d to good training, turn out less 
intractable and be saved from conspicuous moral 
But the blemish. But fair beauty, the ornament of lofty 
highest virtue, no one can hope to attain unless he has the 

success can * r 

only be won seeds and germs of it naturally implanted in his 
naturally 1 S mind. Since this is so, and since we must wish in 
f°° d fo a r nd a child that something in which Nature's power 
study. and not our own is seen — viz. a good disposition 

— why should we not pray that it be not only 
Let us good, but the best possible — and we must say the 
assume that same thing about the stock, the fortune, the cir- 

the pupil, ° ' 

springing cumstances of him whom we are to train, I mean, 
stock a and that he should come of an honourable stock, of 
by nature g 00 d parentage, of well-to-do family, and that he 
placed in should be born in lawful wedlock : not because 
Ground- the way of virtue is closed to those who are not 
in g s - so fortunate as to possess these advantages, but 

because the way is without doubt plainer and 
easier for those who set out from this starting- 
point. For the Greek poet was wise when he said 
that unless the foundation of the race is fairly laid 
a dishonoured offspring will follow : and in truth 
the lofty confidence and freedom of a man's spirit 
must needs be narrowed and daunted when it 
suffers the stigma of an ignoble parentage. We 
1 Virg. Georg. i. 146. 



ON EDUCATION 23 

will begin, then, with the birth of the child : for Education 
though it might not be profitless to offer some t>jJt[Jf a 
words of counsel to mothers in respect of the best 
form of bodily exercise and the ordering of their 
daily life during the time when the infant is yet 
in the womb, yet the physical conditions vary in 
different cases : some women are more delicate 
than others, and we may safely leave that period 
to the care of nature rather than of the father. 
No sooner, however, is the child born than it 
becomes his father's duty to see that the mother The child 
feeds him at her own breast, 1 both because of their h ° s mother's 
kinship and because this practice gives no mean breast if 

r r ° possible. 

bond to their love : for the more the labour, the 
greater the affection, when its object is made 
perfect. But if by any chance we are obliged to H a nurse 
employ a nurse, 2 we should be careful to choose she must be 
one of chaste character and prudent mind : for as £ hose £ f ° r 

* her chaste 

we see even our own minds, as well as our bodies, character 
to be affected by the food we take from day to day, mind.™ en 
so an infant draws into its nature with the milk 
it drinks no small measure of the virtuous sobriety 
which belongs to the person from whose body it is 
fed. One ought, moreover, to see that a nurse is She must be 
neither too severe in handling a child, nor, on the harsifnor 
other hand, unduly lenient. For it is not only daily lenient. 

1 Cf. Rousseau, Emile, i : ' Ever since mothers, despising 
their first duty, have been no longer willing to nourish their 
own children, they must be entrusted to hireling nurses, who, 
thus finding themselves mothers to others' children for whom 
the voice of nature did not plead, have felt no anxiety but 
to rid themselves of their burdens.' Rousseau's Emile, tr. 
W. H. Payne, Appleton, New York. 

2 Cf . Elyot, ' The Boke of the Governour ', Everyman Library, 
I. iv and v. 



24 SADOLETO 

habit and associations that work insensibly upon 
a child's nature, but a single hour, nay, a single 
moment, leaves its mark; and while the spirit is 
broken by the shock of harsh treatment and be- 
comes mean and timorous, a will spoiled by over- 
indulgence becomes incapable of fixity for any 
length of time. We are all from the beginning of 
life ordained to weeping and wailing, as though 
nature had prescience of the lot of human kind, 
which is full of wretchedness ; and it is certain 
that through the eyes and ears of children — 
untrained and unaccustomed as they are to the 
The waking world — sensations steal into their consciousness 
and sleeping even m sleep, and shake them with alarms. For, 

alarms of . r ' ' 

children. as I said before, the unfamiliar is ever a distress 
to them, and is the source of frequent tears, the 
Rocking in remedy for which is patient rocking in the nurse's 
arms nUrSeS arms, or her songs, and the gradual familiarizing 
with the faces and voices of the household. The 
rocking, above all, is good for them in every way ; 
it soothes and strengthens the body and frees the 
mind from all its petty terrors ; for as the external 
and physical movement subdues and assuages the 
vague unrest that stirs within, the sharp onset of 
the sensory impressions is made milder. It is for 
this reason that, taught in some sort by nature 
what was the right thing to do, we first thought 
of cradles and learnt to carry babies -patiently in 
our arms. And so we must see, so far as we can, 
that the nurses who tend our children spend their 
lives in a kind of perpetual sea-roll. 1 

1 Plato, Laws, vii. 790 : ' Infants should live, if that were 
possible, as if they were always rocking at sea.' 



ON EDUCATION 25 

The power of singing, moreover, can not only The sooth- 
allay perturbed spirits, but even calm a frenzy, enle m of U 
as we see in the case of the Corybants. Then sin s m g- 
when we come to the age at which a child can 
comprehend words and begins to listen with more 
attention to those who talk near it, it becomes 
more than ever important for the father to take 
the utmost care about the conduct of the house- 
hold ; that no base or blasphemous word may The child 

,,.,,, . , must hear 

reach a child s ears, no coarse gesture may meet no evil 
his eye. 1 The mother also must needs take special words > and 

J r see no ugly 

care, since it is in her lap the little one sits, in her gestures. 
face that he most often looks : it is she who 
teaches him to walk and talk. So it is her duty 
to lead the child by the hand or take it in her arms 
to the Church 2 and her services, and also to visit 

1 Cf. Locke, Thoughts, p. 45 : ' They are wholly, if possible, 
to be kept from such Conversation ; for the Contagion of 
these ill Precedents, both in Civility and Virtue, horribly 
infects Children, as often as they come within reach of it. 
They frequently learn from unbred or debauched Servants 
such language, untowardly Tricks and Vices as otherwise 
they possibly would be ignorant of all their lives.' 

2 Plato, Laws, vii. 794: 'And all the children who are between 
the ages of three and six ought to meet at the temples of the 
villages, the several families of a village uniting in one spot. 
The nurses are to see that the children behave properly and 
orderly.' Cf. Locke in the scheme for poor law reform which 
he drew up in 1697 as a Commissioner of Trade and Planta- 
tions : ' Another advantage also of bringing children thus to 
a working school is that by this means they may be obliged 
to come constantly to church every Sunday, along with their 
schoolmasters or dames, whereby they may be brought into 
some sense of religion : whereas ordinarily now, in their idle 
and loose way of breeding up, they are as utter strangers both 



26 SADOLETO 

He is taken and converse in the houses of matrons, allied to 
mother to ner own family, that the child may learn to take 
? h th Ch and pl easur ^ i n the companionship of relatives and 
houses of connexions, to recognize them, and to distinguish 

kinswomen. nQt Qnly their faces but thdr names> Nor ^^^ 

she ever take him to a house where there is not 
a pure and decorous discipline, for as health- 
bringing * breezes blow from wholesome regions, so 
from places of sound and religiously guarded 
morals the breath of goodness should be made to 
flow upon the child's mind. Years pass, and the 
child grows daily in vigour of mind and body, so 
that, as though in a soil fitly prepared, some seed 
may now be sown : and the first and fairest seed, 
the most rich and fruitful in true happiness, that 
The child should be cast into the soul, is the name and 
the mime of thought of Almighty God ; that the child may 
God. begin from the outset to love and reverence Him, 

whom he is daily taught to recognize as the source 
of all the gifts of life. 2 This now becomes the 
He sees his common duty of both parents. For when he sees 
P erformine them worshipping Him, 3 offering Him thanks for 

acts of 

worship. to re iigion and morality as they are to industry.' (Quoted 
by R. H. Quick from Fox Bourne's Life of Locke, vol. ii, 

P- 383-) 

1 Cf . Plato, Rep. iii. 401 : ' Then will our youth dwell in a land 
of health, amid fair sights and sounds, and receive the good 
in everything ; and beauty, the effluence of fair works, shall 
flow into the eye and ear, like a health-giving breeze from 
a purer region, and insensibly draw the soul from earliest 
years into likeness and sympathy with the beauty of reason ' ; 
and Laws, vii. 792 e. 

2 Cf. Locke, Thoughts, p. 116. 

3 Cf. Locke, Thoughts, p. 116 : ' I am apt to think, the 



ON EDUCATION 27 

all His benefits, and with look and gesture of 
supplication invoking His help in all perplexities, 
he will himself conclude that the nature and the 
power of God far transcend the human creatures 
that he knows. This, indeed, the child will be 
the more sure to do if, when he desires something 
for which he eagerly begs, e. g. the bulla, the 
bordered toga, or something else which marks the 
high origin and nobility of his family, (I say, he 
will learn this lesson all the better) if, whenever it 
is granted to him, he is taught that it is the good- 
ness and the grace of God which he has to thank. 
Thus from the beginning he truly learns to love 
Him whom he must also needs fear — not with The fear 
a slavish fear : for this pleases not God nor does ^J God l0V6 
it make for innocence of life and true virtue, but united in 
with that fear which is so bound up with love that heart. 
it cannot be divorced from it. For as we read in 
holy writ, ■ The fear of the Lord is the beginning 
of all wisdom ' * : and, truly, when this love or 
fear of God (for we declare that each is blended 
and mingled with the other) has once been firmly 
rooted in a child we need have no serious appre- 
hension lest he, whoever he be, ever give himself 
up entirely to an evil life. This, then, should be 
our chief endeavour with a child — that this root, 

keeping Children constantly Morning and Evening to Acts 
of Devotion to God, as to their Maker, Preserver and Bene- 
factor, in some plain and short Form of Prayer, suitable to 
their Age and Capacity, will be of much more use to them in 
Religion, Knowledge, and Virtue than to distract their 
Thoughts with curious Enquiries into His inscrutable Essence 
and Being.' 
1 Psalm cxi. 10. 



28 SADOLETO 

so fruitful in blessedness, be most firmly fixed in 

his heart as early as may be, while the ground 

is, so to say, untenanted, and the mind, thanks 

to its very newness in nature and origin, is not 

yet seized by alien and even conflicting ideas. 

For seeds, which at the first sowing are set well 

apart, are not yet crowded into a narrow space 

by a forest of other growths. Of course, all that 

is human must at times go astray and fall ; 

With such but if pure love and worship of God have once 

training, he g rown like a tree within the heart, then, just as 

may make weeds mav spring up and flourish for a while in 

but will not sunless places, but assuredly cannot come to 

fstrly maturity nor bear fruit, so the deadly sins will be 

destroyed by the shadow of religion. And we 

ought to be careful to make a child understand 

that all I have here said of God and His worship 

concerns every aspect of his life : for indeed all 

virtue, all honour, all hope of joyful or happy life 

depends above all upon this one ambition, viz. 

our never ceasing to love and fear God. 

The father The next main principle in a child's training, 

^pattern second to that of which I have just been speaking, 

to his son ^ u -(- f f ar greater importance than any other, is 

at any rate ox- j 

in the that a father, who desires to bring his son up as 

ofpiety and a good and noble man, should himself afford a 

good con- pattern to be copied. 1 No training can be better 

than that. In saying this I do not deny that there 

1 Cf. Locke, Thoughts, p. 44 : ' Children (nay, and Men too) 
do most by Example. We are all a sort of Camelions, that 
still take a Tincture from Things near us ; nor is it to be 
wondered at in Children, who better understand what they 
see than what they hear.' 



ON EDUCATION 29 

are many graces of life that ought daily to be 
increased in a child, though his father may not though he 
possess them : for example, letters and the pursuit SYis^on 6 
and study of those Arts which are called Liberal, ma ?y gifts 

11 r • -i 1 • anc * g races 

the knowledge 01 civil or ecclesiastical law, practice which he 
and understanding of war and military matters, himself 01 
it may be: for while a father may by the fault possess. 
of his own father or of mere mischance be wholly 
ignorant of these matters, he should see that 
his son know something of them. For there 
is a natural desire common to all fathers, that 
they should leave sons better and more illustrious 
than themselves. And this comes from a natural 
love in every man, not more for his son than for 
himself, due to the deeply implanted, inborn 
craving to prolong our life, a craving by which 
we are swept on to the lust for immortality ; and 
a father always feels himself to live again in his 
son and to pass into his own image. 

We must leave in partial neglect some matters 
which this is not the time for treating more fully ; 
and declare that the foundation of everything lies 
in what we have named, i. e. a sound and upright 
character and a dignified and well-balanced order 
of home-life. On this topic I must now briefly 
and comprehensively summarize my conclusions. 
For in the scheme we sketched just now, we agreed 
to postpone for secondary consideration the ques- 
tion of training in literature and the liberal arts. 

Paul. Very properly, for we shall find it easy 
to revert to the earlier period and stage of a child's 
education if that be found advisable. And I con- 
fess this picture of the parents' character as seen 



30 



SAD0LET0 



The 

parents' 
example 
of a well- 
balanced 
mind. 



If the 

father finds 
himself 
unequal to 
the task, 
let him 
seek a tutor 
to train the 
boy. 



sketched in their children's dispositions has a 
peculiar charm for me : not only because the 
subject is one of infinite interest and importance, 
but because I have personal experience of the 
truth of most of what you say in the debt I owe to 
you who have nurtured and brought me up. 

Jac. Let this, then, be the first rule for parents 
in regard to their children if they desire to bring 
them to the best fruits of goodness — that what 
they long for their children to become, they must 
show themselves to be in their children's eyes. 1 
But this first counsel of ours is far from easy to 
carry out ; for he who wishes to obey it must 
discern and observe the golden mean in conduct, 
the practice of which has ever been most difficult 
though its fruits have always been most excellent. 
But if a father feels himself scarcely equal to the 
guidance of his son, and yet wishes him to grow up 
into a good man, let him find a tutor more suitable 
for the task than himself, and entrust the boy to 
his training ; 2 for it is better for him to be trained 
to goodness by the influence of a stranger, than 
depraved by that of his own kin. That such a 
course has been taken by the most eminent men, 
we know not only from books, but from our own 
observation — for I suppose we are not to find 

1 Cf. Locke, Thoughts, p. 45, and note : ' Children [should 
be] kept as much as may be in the Company of their 
Parents . . .' ' How much the Romans thought the Educa- 
tion of their Children a Business that properly belonged 
to the Parents themselves, see in Suetonius, August. § 64. 
Plutarch, in vita Catonis Censoris, Diodorus Siculus, /. 2, 
cap. 3/ 

2 Cf. Locke, Thoughts, pp. 66 and foil. 



ON EDUCATION 31 

fault with the judgement of Philip of Macedon The tutor 
in this matter. 1 His son, Alexander, a boy with fmanof 6 
natural endowments which gave promise of the reai_ 

i'i t- / • if 1/^n -1 i distinction. 

highest qualities (a promise amply fulfilled later 
by his achievements), he entrusted from childhood 
to the tuition of the greatest of philosophers, 
Aristotle. But let us for our purpose take the But if the 
case of a father who has aptitude for the teaching J^ertakes 
and training of his son — such aptitude indeed is the duty, 
often created by affectionate zeal, so that though be his 
a man may not have previously considered what e q ui P ment ■ 
is essential to that serious and well-controlled w m spur 
mode of life, yet, aflame with love for his son, he 5^]*^ 
devotes himself whole-heartedly to the study of it. and studious 

First, then, as we have said, he must keep the He must 
golden mean, for without this there can be no kee P the 
real distinction, no true satisfaction ; and though me an of 
philosophy alone can afford a complete and |ven° ntro1 ' 
rounded conception of this, yet men of good though he 
character and good intelligence, who have bent philosopher, 
themselves to acquiring a position of honour by 
their solid worth, have even without philosophy 
fashioned for themselves no mean figure of this 
queen of all the virtues. 

Let the father then be a man of this sort : of 
well-balanced nature, his one vehement passion 

1 Cf. Quintilian, Inst. Or. i. i. 23 : ' An Philippus Mace- 
donian rex Alexandro filio suo prima litterarum elementa 
tradi ab Aristotele, summo eius aetatis philosopho, voluisset, 
aut ille suscepisset hoc omcium, si non studiorum initia et 
a perfectissimo quoque optime tractari et pertinere ad sum- 
mam credidisset ? ' Cf. Elyot, Gov. I. v, p. 22: ' Hit shal be no 
reproche to a noble man to instruct his owne children . . .' 
and also I. vi. and ix-xii. 



32 SADOLETO 

the pursuit of goodness and honour, eager to pour 

his whole soul through the channel of ears and 

The child eyes into the mind and spirit of his son. For the 

observes child at once begins to turn his eyes upon the 

what his father of the family as soon as he has any power 

father says , .,. 

and does, oi thought, and observes with a special attention 
all that he says and does ; and so we must be more 
watchful, lest we carry from ourselves any infec- 
tion of evil or dishonour into the life of him whom 
we ourselves long to mould and shape to the fair 
The child form of a rounded and complete virtue. Now as 
sight S eariier ^ ne sense of sight is prior to the sense of hearing 
than by anc [ j s ea rlier to develop its natural power, the 

hearing. 

first care must be to set before the eyes of the son 
the pattern, in the person of his father, of a manly 
The father's dignity. 1 This will express itself in dress, in every 
movement of body and of mind — and all the con- 
cerns of home life from day to day : in all these 
the father must observe the fashion of dress 
which is in general vogue, yet so that there shall 
be nothing over- exquisite in his apparel, and 
nothing again common or unkempt, which is 
sometimes attributed to carelessness, but more 
often to meanness. 2 As for the movements and 
impulses of the mind, which springing from anger, 
vexation, love, hate, hope, unexpected pleasure, 
the fear of some evil or disaster, -the sudden 
announcement of calamity, and all the other 
influences, the inward passions of whatever kind 
that buffet or shake the mind, and strive to move 

1 Cf. Locke, Thoughts, p. 44 (quoted above, p. 28). 

2 On dress cf. Elyot, Gov. II. iii : Of apparaile belongynge 
to a noble man, beinge a gouemour or great counsailour. 



ON EDUCATION 33 

it from its seat, all these he must so support and The father 
govern that to a beholder he may seem to be on the JjJSded by 
lookout for these assaults, however impetuous and reason « and 

' * unmoved 

swift they may be, but awaiting the command of by sudden 
reason, not daring to make a sortie against them, |assion. 
until, and then only so far as, reason bids. This 
is a spectacle than which the world offers nothing 
more God-like. For what can the eye discover so 
rare, so noble, so splendid in its rounded and 
beautiful dignity as the sight of virtue controlling 
and ordering the impulses and affections of the 
mind, or fitly adjusting them to the rule of reason. 

If a boy from his earliest years has been steeped The boy 
in this tradition in the example of his father, he ^tradition 
will have taken into his heart the noble seed of ° f dignity 

i-i-ii t i r • • from the 

a virtue which will come to a splendid fruition in example 
his own character. father. 

But this ordered self-control of the mind is 
accompanied by a certain slowness shown in every 
movement and gesture of the body — not of course Dignity of 
the heaviness or slackness which is generally S 1 dignity 11 
the sign of indolence and inertness of mind, and of gesture 

° and 

sometimes even of a gross stupidity — I mean rather carriage. 
that slowness which accords with acknowledged 
dignity of character and is curbed by the same 
checks and enjoys the same freedom as the mind 
itself ; when occasion calls for quick decision and 
rapid action, the quick and ready service of the 
body, with hand and foot, the keen glance, the 
sharp tone of voice, are not forbidden, yet each 
seemslx) have been held at the disposal of reason 
and judgement for use when use was urgent. 
This art of moderation, which, as I said, is the 

1754 t^ 



34 SADOLETO 

Consistent supreme ornament of life, decorating it and illu- 
Se su- 10n ' minating it in every part, this knowledge of what 
preme oma- j s fft j n every circumstance, on every occasion, 
life, is the under every condition, is the gift, the work of 
philosophy, philosophy. Philosophy alone makes this art self- 
consistent everywhere, and for every stage of life ; 
Philosophy though no doubt it gets aid from age and wide 
experience 7 experience, and from that shrewd observation of 
of the what has commonly befallen or is at the moment 

world : 

taking place in the world and among men, which 
and experi- affords to philosophy both her materials and her 

CI1CG 6V6JGL . 

without instruments and by itself, apart from philosophy, 
wm^achieve can acmeve i n one naturally intelligent and good 
much in a the appearance of a wise man, though it cannot 
naturally produce complete and perfect wisdom. 



man 
natu 
intelligent 



The father of a family must indeed always have 
his spirit well in control, but specially if his son 
is present upon any occasion which calls for signs 
of agitation he must remember to summon to his 
aid the counsel of reason, so that he may not only 
set about and carry through the action which is 
appropriate, but do this with a certain dignity, 
to the end that those high examples of conduct 
may with most potent influence make their way 
into the heart of his son, and settle there — examples 
which, if once they have established a place for 
themselves in him, and won the use and right of 
domicile in his heart, will never suffer examples of 
a different sort, mean and disfiguring, to approach 
or at any rate remain too long. 

The father x must, then, if our principles be ac- 
1 The ideal father, clearly, has many of the characteristics 



ON EDUCATION 35 

cepted, show himself devout and reverent towards The father, 
Almighty God, genial with his equals, keeping towards 
equallv remote from fawning deference to his God > wlU 

" J g among men 

superiors and from arrogant self-assertion ; to- adopt a 
wards his slaves and his household gentle rather appropriate 
than severe, 1 vet so as to maintain an unchallenged to hls 

J ° company. 

authority, 2 and have each and all alert in ready 
obedience to his command. His speech at home His con- 
will be concise, mild and even in tone, but ex- versatlon - 
pressed in words of force. He will not seek the 
company and conversation of his servants unduly ; His treat- 
yet when they approach him with some petition, ^^ants. 

of Aristotle's ' high-minded man '. Cf. Ethics, iv. 3. 26 : ' It 
is characteristic of the high-minded man ... to be lofty in his 
behaviour to those who are high in station and favoured by 
fortune, but affable to those of the middle ranks. . . .' And 
34 : ' Further, the character of the high-minded man seems 
to require that his gait should be slow, his voice deep, his 
speech measured.' 

1 Cf . Elyot, Gov. II. v, Of affabilitie and the utilitie therof in 
every astate. 

2 On the authority of the parent, cf . Locke, Thoughts, p. 27 : 
' Those therefore that intend ever to govern their Children, 
should begin it whilst they are very little, and look that they 
perfectly comply with the Will of their Parents. ... For 
methinks they mightily misplace the Treatment due to their 
Children, who are indulgent and familiar when they are little, 
but severe to them, and keep them at a distance, when they 
are grown up : For Liberty and Indulgence can do no good 
to Children ; their Want of Judgment makes them stand in 
need of Restraint and Discipline ; and on the contrary 
Imperiousness and Severity is but an ill Way of treating Men, 
who have Reason of their own to guide them ; unless you 
have a mind to make your Children, when grown up, weary 
of you, and secretly to say within themselves, When will you 
die, Father ? ' 

D 2 



36 



SADOLETO 



The cour- 
tesy and 
clemency 
of the 
father will 
produce 
these 

qualities in 
the son. 



Experience 
of good 
society will 
confirm, 
and philo- 
sophy will 
crown them, 



he will always be courteous, and give them a 
fair and generous answer in brief judicial form. 
Yet that they may be in harmony and at peace 
among themselves, and to avoid injustice to any, 
and moreover that he may aid those who are 
straightened in means or affected by illness, he 
may sometimes allow himself a greater freedom in 
sympathetic 1 kindness of act and word; indeed 
the head of the household need not keep this for 
rare and extreme cases, if he desires to hold them 
devoted to himself, and afraid above all things of 
losing his regard, which indeed, if they are treated 
as I suggest, they often prize more dearly than 
life itself. 

In conduct of this sort there is always the note, 
the quality of grave and assured command ; it is 
a supreme and constant illustration of dignity, of 
a kind to foster a certain loftiness and magnificence 
of temper and spirit. For we must graft upon the 
mind and disposition of the boy that sense of what 
is noble and honourable, which will keep him from 
any failure in grave courtesy in his relations with 
the great, and yet prevent him from loss of tender 
clemency in governing those who are in subordi- 
nate positions — a sense, the exhibition of which is 
at once most charming and most difficult. And 
yet the first lines of such a character a father must 
trace upon the heart of his son with his own 
example for his instrument : experience and the con- 
ventions of the best society will deepen the impres- 
sion; and philosophy will give it its final distinction. 

1 On civility and deportment towards servants cf. Locke, 
Thoughts, pp. 102-3, § 11 7- 



ON EDUCATION 37 

If we rapidly traverse all these considerations it 
is not because it is our own aim to train a father, 
for that were a greater enterprise, and would cost 
more labour ; but rather to sketch with a light 
hand upon the tender and impressionable mind 
of youth whatever can come to him in clearly 
envisaged examples of goodness and honour 
from the native virtue of his father. For just The im- 
as letters are easily cut upon the tender bark of a fathe?s° f 
young trees, so it is our hope that our faint out- example in 
line of virtue marked upon a boy's nature may pressionabie 
be deepened, strengthened, and made permanent chddhood 
by time. 

Paul. An excellent scheme, and in my j udgement 
where there are such parents it will not be hard 
to find in the children a high standard of rectitude 
and wisdom. 

Jac. No doubt, but I would have you consider 
this, Paullus, if all teaching of virtue depends 
either upon example or upon precept — that is, Example or 
if the seed of virtue is borne into the mind either SScSlsthe 
by the ears or by the eyes, — those things which stronger ? 
seem to be done as it were in passing, and not 
of set purpose, the mere spectacle of which seizes 
the eyes of youth and forms its character in the 
mould of virtue, have a greater influence than 
what is done openly with this object. For ad- 
miration of a father's virtue, as it shines out in 
his daily habits, moves the children's minds to 
a desire to imitate him, and invites them by the 
shining example, so that they long to be like him 
— especially when they see those who are about 
them silently and reverently obeying the com- 



38 SADOLETO 

mands of the head of the household ; for this image 
of beauty and dignity, which is alone in its own 
essence and for its own sake admirable, passes not 
unheeded before their eyes, and the impression 
sinks deeply into their inmost hearts, not only in 
their waking hours, but often during sleep. The 
wondering interest which this sight arouses is im- 
mediate, and it is shared by all. 

Skill in instruction is vouchsafed to few — and 
in this kind the silent far more than the uttered 
eloquence of a father serves to train the son — the 
eloquence, I mean, which speaks in acts. For a 
father who deals in words, and gives to his son with 
his lips counsels, which he has not adopted for his 
own life, were like a man who should claim to be 
a guide upon a road from which he himself wanders 
far. 

But if a father has not received from nature nor 
been able by careful reflection to fashion for him- 
self the capacity to play such a part, let him find, 
as we have said before, a man to whom he can 
properly entrust his boy for training. But let us 
assume for our argument a father who should be 
such as we have described, or of whom it is to be 
hoped that he may become such a man as can lead 
his son in his own footsteps into the road which 
makes for virtue. About him we have not yet said 
what is the most important of all, and what is per- 
haps most remote from the general trend of opinion 
among men. 

Paul. Pray tell me what this may be ? For 
whatever it is, it must certainly be a great matter, 
which can make any sort of addition to the long 



ON EDUCATION 39 

list of noble qualities which have been touched 
upon in your speech. 

Jac. This surely is the rock upon which social 
life is wrecked, that men almost always think that 
wealth and great possessions are the chief aid improper 
and ornament of a good and a magnificent life, wealth. ° r 
And indeed it may be that this belief is not 
wholly mistaken, for great advantages and aids 
not to mere living, but even to the practice 
and exhibition of virtue, come from the riches a 
man has acquired and his inherited wealth. 1 But 
they are carried too far by this view ; they do not 
know how to set a limit to their desires ; they do 
not learn restraint either in the pursuit or in the 
use of money. And I maintain that no more terri- 
ble curse, no more deadly bane, could have fallen 
upon the human race. It is through this, as is of 
course quite plain and clear, that loyalty and 
faith have long been utterly banished from life, 
and indeed almost destroyed. I argue, against 
the prevalent view, that a house in which wealth 
and money are over-abundant, fails necessarily in 
its standard of conduct, and for that very reason 
can have no peaceful and pleasant life. Nor do 
I say that, because I think that a man should, 
on the contrary, woo poverty and straitened 
means — I uphold that sentiment of the wisest 

1 Cf. Rep. I, 331 A (Cephalus) : ' The great blessing of 
riches, I do not say to every man, but to a good man, is that 
he has had no occasion to deceive or defraud others, either 
intentionally or unintentionally ; and when he departs to 
the world below he is not in any apprehension about offerings 
due to the gods or debts which he owes to men.' 



4 o SAD0LET0 

of kings in his prayer that God should grant 
him neither poverty nor wealth, but only those 
things which are needful for life — a sentiment 
applauded by our beloved Plato, the father of 
philosophy. 

But when we reflect that of the wickednesses 

and curses of men some are of greater and some 

Excess of of less magnitude, we are forced to recognize that 

moreharm- excessive wealth is the fountain and source of the 

*ui to greater, and the lack of it the cause of the less. 

ctictrcLctcr 

than lack of I should hope for the generous spirit whose train- 
ing in boyhood and youth we are devising, that 
he should be of a family whose wealth and 
fortune were so well assured that the master 
should have no need to earn money but rather be 
and the best satisfied with his private revenues, and these I 
wealth is should trust would be derived from his own estates, 
unearned, i should hope further that such revenues would 
from supply not only adequately but even liberally the 

estates. daily claims of convention and good taste ; yet in 
expenditure a certain economy should be observed ; 
Extrava- for I think that luxury and extravagance express- 
8a ofusion d * n & themselves in undue profusion of equipment, 
and over- and an over-elaboration of ornament and a too 

refinement . r , , , . ,. . , 

are poisons curious refinement, are to be shunned as the most 
of hfe. deadly poisons of life. For strength 'of character 
is sapped, and the mind is dissipated in the dalli- 
ance of empty self-admiration by the diverse re- 
finements of sideboards and servants and jewels 
Luxury and pictures and tapestry. Preoccupied by these 
oniy S to 0t frivolous tastes people become incapable of any 
dissipation, sustained or consistent effort after those things 
which are truly worthy of a man : above all, if 



ON EDUCATION 41 

they consider the whole value of life and money 
to consist in a daily succession of banquets, with 
all their accessories of sport, jest, song, festi- 
vity, and pleasant talk. A home life spent like 
this in constant luxury, in excess of wine and food, 
in daily debauchery, where every hour is devoted 
to some form of pleasure, makes young people not even to 
only headstrong, petulant, and proud, but violent, cruelty! 1 
lawless, cruel, and wholly depraved. They become 
tyrannical in temper and disposition, they recog- 
nize no standard of propriety save their own 
caprice, and regard their fellow men as mere cattle 
and beasts of burden, whose duty is to pay them 
service. Nay, it is manifest that the household— 
and indeed the community — in which this type 
of conduct prevails, contains within it the seeds of 
every kind of disaster and calamity : nor can it 
long enjoy peace or permanence. And yet the The world 
world calls this a generous style of living — a state- i UXU rious 
ment with as little truth in it as many other popular for 

J r r generous 

judgements. For this lavish and luxurious scale of living, 
expenditure is far more likely than any other to 
engender the vice of frantic and grasping avarice 
which brings nations and cities to ruin. 

This is not the occasion to go into details, but 
let us say that the father of a family (provided, of 
course, he is a man who wants his children to turn 
out sturdy and hard-working men) ought to be The father 
frugal, temperate, and economical in all matters of f^ai and 
dress and food, without being mean and displaying temperate, 
any symptoms of a petty or narrow mind. In this mean or 
he will succeed if with an ordered and prescribed pe y ' 
system of daily provision he keeps a simple, rather 



42 



SADOLETO 



Mothers 
and 
women 
generally- 
apt to be 
too indul- 
gent. 



than a sumptuous table, with delicacies sparingly 
provided, but extravagant variety banned ; for 
a life ordered on so temperate a system as this 
maintains a splendour and liberality which avoids 
excess as it avoids defect, and is worthy of a 
wise father, to whom everything that concerns 
the upbringing of his children is specially in this 
regard a personal care. For mothers and women x 
generally are apt to be over-indulgent, and spoil 
their children by stuffing and plying them with 
everything they desire ; they never do or say any- 
thing to thwart their wishes, nor will they surfer 
any one else to say a word ; nothing could do more 
to promote the despotic domination of the passions. 
You have surely noticed, Paullus, in reading your 
Persian History (for by my advice you have in- 
cluded in your Greek reading Xenophon's Cyrus 
and Herodotus' s History) how differences in train- 
ing and upbringing resulted in differences of nature 
and of character in those kings. This Cyrus sprang 
from a father noble and illustrious among the Per- 
sians ; but, brought up on a system in which the food 
consisted of bread and water, with cress for relish, 
or if he desired flesh food, he had to toil and sweat 
for it, nay, occasionally to secure it in the woods 
not without risk from the wild beast's ; and Cyrus 
proved himself a great king, born to be an adminis- 
trator, whose one aim was to gain glory and renown 
by extending his kingdom : he was so courteous 
and affable to the people, so kind and just to the 

1 Cf. Elyot, Gov. I. vi, p. 23 : ' After that a childe is come 
to seuen yeres of age, I holde it expedient that he be taken 
from the company of women.' 



ON EDUCATION ^ 43 

tribes he defeated, that, dear as he always was to The 
his fellow-countrymen, he was no less beloved by G f Cyrus* 
the foes he conquered, in spite of their previous ^ nd , 

. - - Cambyses. 

hostility to him. He won a glorious name, and 
his reputation for valour will never cease to be 
extolled. 

But being, one must suppose, preoccupied with 
other matters, he handed over his son Cambyses, 
whom he was to leave as the heir of his name and Cyrus's 
empire, to be brought up by women. For he did naturally 
not owe his strength of character or plan of life s r eat, but 
to the study of philosophy (the only guarantee of by pniio- 
consistency and coherence) but to nature only, entrusted e 
Hence he found the appropriate results of upbring- }£ s son to 

• XXIG CcLI"6 OX 

mg by women in the case of his own child. Cam- women— 
byses, petted and coaxed by women, accustomed disastrous 
from childhood to meet no hindrance to his desires, results. 
after succeeding to the kingly title, came to such 
a pitch of intemperance and madness, that he 
found no joy or satisfaction in anything that was 
sanctioned by custom or law. He was led on by 
senseless fury to the murder of many persons, 
among them his own brother (for he set at naught 
the power of the immortal Gods), and finally laid 
hands on himself, and in his own ruin involved the 
whole house of Cyrus. 

The kingdom of Persia then fell to Darius, a man Darius, 
indeed of distinguished family among the Persians, J^™ 1 * by 
but the tradition and fortune of whose house had restored the 
been remote from the luxuries of a palace. He power, 
brought to the task of government not perhaps the 
same greatness of soul as Cyrus, but an equal justice 
and clemency : and so by his efforts again the Persian 



44 



SADOLETO 



but Xerxes 
brought up 
by women 
and un- 
manned by 
luxury, 
brought 
disgrace 
and 

disaster to 
it. 



A training 
in the arts 
of hospital- 
ity. 



kingdom was increased. His son Xerxes, neglected 
by his father, and trained, like Cambyses, by 
women, found the Persians rich in glory and re- 
nown, and brought upon them disgrace and count- 
less disasters. I have recalled these things to you, 
Paullus, to prove by instances, what it has been 
necessary to state in many words, that there is no 
greater obstacle to the attainment of virtue than 
luxury at home and an equipment more elaborate 
than self-control and reason demand. If a father 
is the slave of such tastes, he shall strive in vain 
to leave a brave and strenuous son behind him fit 
to fill a great position. And if you ask my opinion, 
I want to see home-training severe and pure : not 
crabbed either, but seasoned with genial good 
fellowship, insomuch that the household servants 
want for nothing, and friends and guests are glad 
to frequent the house ; when they are invited to 
come, the father of the family sees that the enter- 
tainment is a little more generous, and that his 
countenance and conversation is expressive of a 
more than ordinary gaiety ; his provision, though 
more plenteous and tasteful, is yet not lavish (for 
extravagance we do not care to see in any well- 
ordered household). Nay, at such festivals and 
over the wine he finds an opportunity for quietly 
observing the behaviour of his son : whether he 
remembers his father's training and his temperate 
habits, and maintains a modest and discreet be- 
haviour at a feast, and knows how to control 
himself in his cups. 

For this, in Plato's judgement, is a proof of the 
first importance for estimating the nature and 



ON EDUCATION 45 

quality of a boy or a youth, and we ought not to 
set it aside, for the test is free from risk, and 
full of value, and if a youth comes through it 
satisfactorily, if he feels that the success of an enter- By what 
tainment is to be measured rather by the cheerful s d ^ s * r 
and generous quality of the conversation than by youth 
the gratification of the palate, we are fully entitled the success 
to hope for him that he will be just what every tainment^ 
man should pray that his son might become. 

But to bring our counsels in this kind to a con- 
clusion, let us say that the father who desires to 
bring up his son in a way of life generous and 
liberal, of course, but also refined and temperate 
must arrange and order his scale of daily expendi- 
ture in such a manner as to be able to observe Economy 
economy without meanness and to allow magnifi- meanness, 
cence and freedom, when occasion arises, without freedom 

without 

ostentation or extravagance. He must shun a petty, extrava- 
narrow consideration of every trifling expense, by gance - 
which all generosity is thrust out of the spirit, and 
nobility of temper dies away. By such a mode 
of life men are made surly and disagreeable and 
troublesome, a burden to themselves as well as to 
every one else — as though always in despair about 
everything, afraid of the light, weak, absurd in 
company when they enter it, crouching in corners, 
accepting nothing broad and generous in their 
minds, choked with mean cares and the pettiest 
interests — and what, we may ask, can be more 
inimical to the health and self-respect of the spirit 
or to an honourable elevation of mind ? 

But let us at last leave this part of our subject, 
for you have, Paullus, in your father a fine example, 



46 SADOLETO 

ah this, an image of that dignity, the sight and spectacle 
may now of which I should wish for his diligent imitation 
leave is -j- ^ e se -j- before every son who is to be reared to 

education J 

through great hopes : an example set before his eyes, you 

spectacle 6 wi^- observe ; for sometimes the impression made 

of life well without any words through the eyes is as powerful 

in its advocacy of goodness as that which is made 

through the ears — and about that we shall have 

Hearing is to speak later, for hearing is the sense specially 

and proper appropriate for training and teaching and learning 

instruction °^ everv kind — since it alone discerns the mind, 

which the eyes cannot contemplate. 

This is why, so the story goes, Socrates, wisest 
of the Greeks, as the Delphic oracle affirmed, after 
watching for some time a frank and generous- 
looking youth who was standing by in silence, 
in speech cried, ' Now say something, my young friend, that 
i^reveaied I ma y see y° u -' Clearly he felt that the real 
man is the mind, and assigned understanding and 
apprehension of the mind not to the eyes but to 
the ears. And rightly : for the ears take in the 
sound which speech forms and arranges, and 
speech is at once an image of the speaker's 
thought and mind, and the expression of his inmost 
feelings : making a road for itself from mind to 
mind, it carries the thoughts and sentiments of 
the intelligence from which it proceeds by way of 
speech and the ears to another intelligence. It thus fulfils a 
make 18 most apt and useful embassy : for thereby thoughts 
possible which otherwise lie hidden in the secret recesses 

the noble 

commerce of the mind are by the service of speech and hearing 
intercourse. f reer y interchanged in the shrewd and noble com- 
merce of human intercourse. 



ON EDUCATION 47 

Paul. I am much charmed by what you say 
of the faculty of vision, as setting before the mind 
a noble and venerable form by the imitation of 
which it may be enriched. But I look for no less 
delight from the faculty of hearing, for indeed it is 
by its aid that your pleasant and delightful account 
of the sense of vision has been conveyed to my 
mind. And by the words which you have used 
in extolling and praising this faculty, you have 
roused in me the anticipation of no ordinary benefit 
in listening to you. 

Jac. At this point then, Paullus, we shall do 
what you said a little earlier that we ought to do 
if need arose, I mean call our discussion back to We must go 
those earlier years which our conversation had toeaSy 311 
passed by and pressed on to what we may call y ears - 
a terminus, the end of that period which we pro- 
pose to limit at 24 years : for we included the 
whole period of youth in that plan of instruction 
that seeks to adorn the character by the imitation 
of virtue exemplified in the manners of our fore- 
fathers. 

But since our discussion is to be brought back 

to those matters which find a place in precepts and 

admonitions constantly addressed to their children 

by parents, that virtue may be, not only held up 

before their eyes, but made intelligible to them, 

let us make our starting-point for this purpose the Let us begin 

age of five years. At that age, if we look to physical of five years, 

measurement, the body achieves about half the full T h ! n virtue 

• • first 

height (since the ensuing twenty years give roughly becomes 

an equal increase and development). Moreover, intelll § lble - 

in the course of his fifth year, a boy, who has 



48 SADOLETO 

At this age hitherto been solely in the charge of women, is 
?ronfthe SSeS handed over to his father's supervision for the most 
hands of p ar |- . 1 f or j^ now can c i ear ly express what he 

women to * ' j r 

the care of thinks himself and understand the speech of others. 
And so let us again begin from the same foundation 
which we laid before in welding together the parts 
of our educational structure, I mean Religion and 
the love and worship of Eternal God. Day after 
day we delight to see the sun rise and set, because 
of the glory and brightness of that greatest of the 
stars, in whose splendour and light all things re- 
joice ; and the soul ought not to receive less 
delight because we seek again and again from God 
the same blessings : nay, rather the more since all 
the manifold and shining beauty of the heavenly 
constellations is drawn, as by little channels, from 
the infinite beauty of God, the Highest. A father's 
The fear of first and foremost care, then, must be to imbue his 
beginning son's mind with the fear of God, of which we have 
of educa- spoken before, a fear which alone can strengthen 
and support a man to face with undaunted courage 
' all human misfortunes. And this will be so if he 

displays to his son the might of God, His presence 
everywhere and His infinite majesty, not so much 
by argument, which the child cannot follow at this 
tender age, as by examples and by accounts of the 
wonderful things which God has done : 2 if he is con- 
stant and careful in making mention of the benefits 

1 Cf. Elyot, Gov. I. vi: 'At what age a tutour shulde be pro- 
uided, and what shall appertaine to his office to do.' 

2 Cf . Book of Common Prayer : ' O God, we have heard 
with our ears, and our fathers have declared unto us, the 
noble works that thou didst in their days, and in the old 
time before them.' 



ON EDUCATION 49 

by which not only he himself as an individual but 
also the whole human race in common has been 
enriched by God, and this includes the mysteries 
of our Faith, which must be subtly communicated 
to the heart. Nothing is to be regarded as of prior 
importance to this in moulding the soul to piety 
and religion. This will be best done, if the father 
makes good and applies in deeds and not words 
alone whatever solemn and pious lessons about 
divine things he has given to his son. After God Reverence 
and all those divine beings who were either taken th er 
at once to Heaven by the Kindness of God or after ' d . ivine , 

beings . 

a while raised to Heaven by their own eminent 

merits, and lives nobly spent — whose praise should 

ever be fresh, and their glory immortal among men 

— after these a father must instruct his children 

above all to honour their 1 parents, seeing that in Honour due 

fact we owe almost everything to them : for we ° paren s ' 

must reckon as due to them our birth and 

existence, and the whole sunlit world, which 

we happily perceive with lips, eyes, nostrils, 

1 Cf . Plato, Laws, iv : 'In the first place, we affirm that - 
next after the Olympian gods and gods of the State, honour 
should be given to the gods below. . . . Next to these gods, 
a wise man will do service to the demons or spirits, and then 
to the heroes, and after them will follow the private and 
ancestral gods. . . . Next comes the honour of living parents 
. . .' Cf. with this Phaedrus, 246 E-247 : 6 pev Br) /xeyas 

rjyefx.oiv iv ovpavw Zevs . . . TrpwTO? 7ropeveTa.L . . . t5 8 €7reTai (rrparia 

BiGsv tc Kal Sai/jLovwv— a passage supposed by Orelli to have 
been in the mind of Arnobius (Contra Gentes, ii. 25) when 
he speaks of man holding the fourth place, under God (the 
supreme God) ; and kindred spirits (i. e..the lesser gods and 
the daemons). 

1754 E 



50 SAD0LET0 

and in short through every sense and movement 
of the whole body. To them again we must 
acknowledge the careful and anxious labour which, 
on our behalf, they not merely refuse to shun, but 
actually seek and pursue, in order to rear and 
nurture us and give us an honourable place among 
our fellow citizens and our equals. Surely they 
deserve all the gratitude their children can show 
by dutiful regard and the practice of a peculiar 
Gratitude veneration. Later on it becomes our duty to 
sendee. y provide for their welfare, and by our diligent 
labours to secure them from need and discomfort. 
We should supply their necessity, sustain their 
weakness, and avert from them all kinds of vexa- 
tion that may assail them from any quarter. For 
if Hesiod * is right in bidding us repay services 
done to us by others, in equal or if possible in 
greater measure, what return, we may ask, should 
we make to our parents, for whose benefits to 
us no commensurable acknowledgement can be 
found ? For indeed parents, however weak, 
decrepit, or broken they may be, are never useless 
to their children. But even as we reverence the 
images and statues of divine beings as memorials, 
because of the kindness of those in whose likeness 
they are fashioned, believing that those divine 
beings themselves will be more disposed to be 
gracious to us, so there is no image of the Eternal 
God more beautiful than that which exists in the 
person of a father or a mother. 

And the tender spirit of the child should be 
trained by them in habits of respect to his parents 
1 Works and Days, 185 seq., 349 seq. 



ON EDUCATION 51 

in such sort that the father should hold up the 
mother, and the mother the father, and all the 
members of the household and acquaintance 
should hold up both to the dutiful regard and 
veneration of the son. Nor should this tribute 
of honour on the part of children stop with the 
parents : it should extend also to his grandparents Respect 
and all other ancestors, if they are still living : for p a °^ s ° 
in them the source of all those benefits which we leads to a 

. . feeling of 

have received from our parents may be seen in a yet respect and 
more august and venerable form. Furthermore, fo r fe a |eand 
from this reverence towards parents and grand- office- 
parents, this due and dutiful observance, flows — 
as from a full source of good feeling — the general 
respect and common deference paid to age, to office, 
and to ripe years. It is a fit and appropriate tribute 
to pay to old age, which not improperly claims the 
title of father : for in their first years children, 
warned by the aspect of age, give the name of 
father to persons whom they are not yet able 
accurately and exactly to distinguish by their Young 
lineaments and features : and then afterwards ^J^* 

call all men 

their affectionate and almost brotherly relations 'father'— 

.., ... P ., . and indeed 

with those of their own age give a common use ama nmay 
of that name for all their own and their friends' De j: c< i? ie , 

a father to 

fathers. Indeed, at that age a man, whoever he the young, 
may be, may become the father of a child or kindred 7 by 
youth in virtue not of kindred, but of kindly kindness- 
counsel. 1 Hence Romulus, or it may have been 

1 Cf. Plato, Laws, vii. 808 d, on the responsibility of all 
mature citizens for children : ' And he (the citizen) who 
comes across him (a boy) and does not inflict upon him the 
punishment he deserves, shall incur the greatest disgrace.' 

E 2 



52 SADOLETO 

Numa — one of whom was the father of the city, 

and the other of the legal and religious institutions 

Senators of Rome — was quite right when, influenced by this 

Fathers. natural kinship between seniority and the name 

of father, he called the chief council of the state 

the ' Senate ' (or body of elders) and called the 

Senators themselves ' Fathers \ 

Respect for Moreover, he ordained that younger men should 

age shown . . . J ■,■,-, i 

by the give way to their elders m the street, should bare 
Romans, their heads and rise from their seats at their ap- 
and by the proach. History tells us also that the Spartans fully 
and loyally observed this rule ; for in that city 
it is remarkable with what honour seniority was 
always treated. 1 Hence the well-known story of the 
lesson cleverly and wisely given to the Athenians 
by a Spartan. At the games in Athens some 
Spartan envoys had been placed in a seat of honour 
on the steps of the orchestra : presently, when the 
theatre was full, an old man, a person indeed of no 
great importance, came in leaning on a staff, and 
went round looking for a seat, but no one made 
room for him : when he came to the Spartan 
envoys they rose at once in respect for his age, and 
gave place to him in the better position. For this 
they were loudly cheered and applauded by the 
audience, whereupon one of the Spartans remarked, 
not unhappily, ' So the Athenians know what is 
right to do, but fail to do it themselves ! ' 

A boy, then, should be so trained by the careful 
precepts of his parents as to learn to respect the 
old and indeed his elders generally and treat them 

1 For politeness generally, cf. Locke, Thoughts, p. 124, 
11. 27 seq. 



ON EDUCATION 53 

almost as parents : for such deferential observance The respect 
of his seniors is of the utmost value as a moderating a °rnoderat- 
influence in a young man's life : for it implants in § influ ~ 

J ° r ence upon 

in him a sense of shame, and provides him with youth: 

many witnesses of his words and actions, so that 

he will not venture to stray at all beyond the 

path of honour and rectitude. For when they 

shrink from the censorship — if I may use the 

expression — and the bad opinion of those whom 

they fear and worship, they find the way of the implanting 

transgressor more difficult to tread, and they with the 

blush when caught in it. And so verecundia (the o?aSio° n 

word for modesty) is derived from the verb vereri i*y. 

(to fear), for it is the act of feeling shame and 

blushing, painting the faults upon the face and 

paying a generous fine for the wrong done. And yet 

the blush is the pledge of a good disposition and of 

the virtue we look for in a boy, so that there seems 

much fitness in the saying • He blushed — all 's ' He biush- 

J ° e d all 's 

well'. For shame itself is a habit of taking we ii.' 
precaution against the occurrence of anything 
which may cause a blush : and while it is appro- 
priate to any time of life, it is the chief grace 

1 Cf. with the whole of this section, Aristotle, Ethics, iv. 9 : 
' Shame cannot properly be spoken of as a virtue ; for it is 
more like a feeling or emotion than a habit or trained faculty. 
At least, it is defined as a kind of fear of disgrace, and its 
effects are analogous to those of the fear that is excited by 
danger ; for men blush when they are ashamed, while the 
fear of death makes them pale. ... It is a feeling which is not 
becoming at all times of life, but only in youth . . . and so we 
praise young men when they are ready to feel shame, but 
no one would praise a man of more advanced years for being 
apt to be ashamed.' 



54 



SADOLETO 



Shame — 
a divine 
timidity. 



of youth : nor should we be wrong in describing 
it as the averter of crime and the bulwark of 
temperance and virtue. And I would urge upon 
any parents, with whom my influence is likely 
to have weight, that they delay not to cherish 
and increase in their children this root of shame 
which nature has planted in their fresh minds. 
They can rely upon reaping a rich harvest for 
their pains.. For though a sense of shame may not 
actually be virtue itself, it is the chief support to 
virtue : since it is the dread of an evil name and 
of disgrace : and this is a stern and vigilant 
guardian of virtue. So those who call shame a 
kind of divine timidity seem to me to get nearer 
the right definition of this emotion. It alone 
dreads the loss of that one wellnigh divine posses- 
sion, which we win from high honour and office — 
to wit, our credit and good repute. 

All other terrors, 1 fears, and apprehensions, of 
death or of dangers, which cast down and all but 
destroy the spirit, we rightly deem in general 
empty and profitless and always disgraceful, for 
the very aspect they induce' is unseemly and 



1 Cf. Plato, Laws, i. 646-7 : ' Do we not distinguish two 
kinds of fear, which are very different ? ' ' What are they ? ' 
' There is the fear of expected evil.' ' Yes, and there is the 
fear of an evil reputation ; we are afraid of being thought 
evil, because we do or say some dishonourable thing, which 
fear we and all men term shame.' . . . ' And does not the 
legislator and every one, who is good for anything, hold this 
fear in the greatest honour ? This is what he terms reverence, 
and the confidence which is the reverse of this he terms 
insolence ; and the latter he always deems to be a very great 
evil both to individuals and to states.' 



ON EDUCATION 55 

ignoble — the ghastly pallors of the cheek, the 
trembling and shrinking limbs. The soul retreats 
to the citadel of life, the heart, and calls in thither 
all its forces : it seems to desert the outer circuit 
of the city and to retreat before the foe. Now 
shame, 1 on the other hand, boldly sallies forth (for 
the danger is without, springing from the estima- 
tion and regard of others) ; and by setting a 
blush in the face, like a mask against its fault, 
seeks cover in the very act by which it reveals 
itself ; and yet it proves less that it has been 
guilty of a fault than that it is aflame with vexa- 
tion at having committed it. 2 And it does this 
withal in so charming a fashion that the very 
confession confers a kind of grace upon the fault 
confessed. But enough of this : let us return to 
what we were saying, let us repeat again and again 
that the force and quality of this emotion which 
fosters and promotes in the mind a dread of dis- 
grace, ought to be studiously implanted, cultivated 
and increased in their sons by all parents who have The sense 
the proper training of children at heart, as being °£ e S refSe' 
a thing which preserves for them a healthy mind is to . be 
and a good reputation until the time when true 
reason and philosophy herself shall come to their 
aid. No little thought and care should be devoted 
by parents to this. 

Paul. Explain, father ; for you would hardly be- 
lieve how eager I am to hear. I had learnt from you 
who nurtured and trained me that parents and elders 

1 On the Sense of Shame, cf. Locke, Thoughts, p. 36, § 60. 

2 Cf. the account Rep. iv. 440 of the ' spirited principle in 
the soul '. 



56 SADOLETO 

should be treated with honour and respect, and 
I used diligently to try to do that and obey your 
precept ; but now that I realize the value of your 
advice, and see what I did not notice before, 
how rich is the fruit of that reverence, I shall 
henceforth be even more steadfast and persevering 
in my obedience : indeed this is eminently fitting 
for me, above all others : for I have not one father 
only but two, to teach me the lesson of veneration 
and respect for my elders. 

Jac. I am glad, Paullus, that it is not in vain 
that I endeavoured to make you apply yourself to 
the study of philosophy, for I now perceive that 
you apprehend how strong a support true principle 
and knowledge give to good character. But when 
I speak, as I did, 'about the fostering in young 
people of a sense of reverence, you must under- 
stand me to mean that if parents are possessed of 
that desire to train their children with a view to 
distinction and high position, a desire worthy of 
a father's love and tenderness, — they ought to 
undertake the task in a mild and gentle spirit, 
adopting no harsh and frightful method (as the 
old poet says x ) of teaching and instructing, but 
rely rather upon a winning kindness. Dignity, of 
course, must always be kept ; a father should 
The right never let himself sink to the level of familiarity 
father to° f or become the boon companion of his son, — that 
son. merely breeds contempt and self-confidence in 

the youth, who, feeling himself curbed by no law, 
comes to pursue with headstrong passion whatever 
takes his fancy. On the other hand he should 
1 Quoted in Cic. Orat. 49. 164. 



ON EDUCATION 57 

be no formal or rigid moralist, afraid of giving his 
son ample proof of courteous and warm-hearted 
consideration, or shy of taking affectionately * and Affection, 
even with a certain rapture to his heart the child, bTdignity. 
who is a living image of himself, than which nothing 
in life is sweeter to a parent. But if he must 
control his affection, lest the child spoiled by 
excessive indulgence cast away all respect and 
reverence for his father, he must take even more 
strenuous pains to avoid violent and rough No exces- 
severity ; 2 that crushes out love from the child's g^ce? bit 
heart and brings him to the purpose and passion no violence 
of hating whatever in himself he knows to be ness. 
pleasing to his father. A boy thus will either 
fall into meanness and timidity, or if he is more 
stubborn in disposition will resist, and believe that 
by rejecting his father's authority and behaving 
worse from day to day, he is avenging himself 
for his father's ill-treatment. What wisdom and 
what practical judgement is shown by the elder 
Cato who, reflecting on this, used often to remark 
with emphasis that the father of a family who violence 
laid violent hands on his wife or children was not Awards 
less sacrilegious, and deserved no less detestation children is 
than those who outraged the shrines of the 
immortal Gods. And in truth, if we will but think, 
as it is improper for any one to be kept to his duty 
by fear, it is most of all unsuitable for a child, 
whose mind we desire to mould to honour and 
integrity : for fear 3 is a weak and tottering guardian 

1 Cf. Locke, Thoughts, pp. 78, &c, §§ 95, &c. 

2 Cf. ibid., p. 30, §§ 46-9. 

3 Cf. ibid., p. 28, § 42. 



58 SADOLETO 

Fear is a of virtue ; and those who wish to use it should 
guardian of near the rebuke which Terence (in graceful verse 
virtue. enough) draws from everyday experience against 
fathers of this sort : x 'In my opinion a man 
greatly mistakes if he thinks that authority over 
children has more weight and security when won 
by force than when cemented by affection.' Let 
it then be a father's first consideration to be loved 
and honoured by his son ; and this he will attain 
if he is not captious nor harsh, nor ready to follow 
up every fault too shrewdly ; if he is in no way 
inexorable and cruel, but shows himself kind and 
tender to his child, yet always maintaining his dig- 
nity. 2 And this will be so if a father combines and 
uses word and act in right proportion, and in all 
that comes within the scope of his son's permitted 
The father and natural desires and tastes, he grants (with 
must make f ew worc l s or none) all his wishes — whether the 

generous . . . 

allowance boy delights in horses, or wants dogs for hunting, — 

for his son's -i • -i i ■, • .., . , , - r , 

pleasures, an d indulges him even with rich and magnificent, 
yet not extravagant dress ; and with every 
equipment, moreover, with which he may invite 
and entertain friends of his own age at his home, 

1 Sadoleto apparently quotes from memory. The reference 
is to Terence, Adelphi, i. i. 40 seq. : 

Et errat longe mea quidem sententia 

Qui imperium credat grauius esse aut stabilius, 

Vi quod fit, quam illud quod amicitia adiungitur. 

2 Cf. Lactantius, Divine Institutes, Book IV, ch. 3 (Ante- 
Nicene Christian Library, vol. xxi) : ' If a man is named 
father of a household, that it may appear that he is possessed 
of a double power, because as a father he ought to indulge, 
and as a lord to restrain, it follows that he who is a son is also 
a slave, and that he who is a father is also a lord.' 



ON EDUCATION 59 

and even make an occasional present to one of 
his companions. For if a father, without any 
preface of idle words or attempt at jest and 
pleasantry in pointless talk with his son, but with 
dignified munificence and as of set purpose, 
permit his son a full use, enjoyment, and control 
of these things, it is wonderful how large a place 
he will hold in his heart, so that for love and 
reverence to his father the young man will not 
dare to entertain even a thought that may dis- 
please his father. On the other hand, if in all 
matters of character and duty, of moderation and 
self-control, courtesy towards equals, kindness to 
inferiors, deference and attention to superiors, 
a father be unsparing and assiduous in advice 
and exhortation ; — if, once more, in actual conduct 
and those actions in which sound training is 
revealed, he makes no concession for the sake of but never 
pleasantness, never permitting his son to act and ^| ak ' ™ m _ 
behave at his own caprice, instead of obeying his piaisance, 

to mere 

father's orders and the dictates of virtue : (if, caprice. 
I say, the father makes this his practice) by this 
method most certainly the fertile and fruitful root 
of honour and all the virtues, being duly tended, 
will develop into a noble dignity in the minds of 
the young. 

This training will put into them not only 
the fear of disgrace, but a love, a marvellous A proper 
passion, for approbation, and adorn them with approba- 
loftiness of spirit and uprightness of purpose, tlon - 
so that they will shrink from anything mean and 
unworthy. For the father who is most skilful, 
and who makes merit his standard in all things, 



60 SADOLETO 

securing by his kindness' the love, and by his 
dignity the fear, of the child, will easily direct the 
young mind into any channel he pleases, and will 
never implant in it the seed of virtue in vain. And 
so a boy will in the first place desire to be praised 
and honoured by his father, who is himself (as 
Hector says in Naevius) a man held in honour ; 
and then in all his intimate intercourse with his 
own companions, though he may surpass them in 

Loving or lustre of character and nobility of conduct, he will 

his father 18 ^ e content to be brought to an equality with them 

the boy will by his kindliness. 

pride and So in life, as Terence says, it will be easy to him 

toward^ lis *° P u * U P w ^ n anc ^ en(mre an whom he meets, 

equals in joining with them in devotion to the pursuits 

they care for, never thwarting them, never putting 

himself first, in such sort that he will easily win 

their praise without their envy and make his 

equals his friends. But Terence adds something 

Thus he more : for besides gaining fresh approbation and 

will win attention he will also secure the admiration due 

their good- 
will and to his high virtue. There are, of course, many 
ira ion. -j- en( j enc i es a £ -j-^jg time of life which make rather 
for vice than for virtue ; this is inevitable, because 
of the vehemence of the passions, particularly at 
that age, for in boys and youths a firm footing has 
not yet been won by reason, which even in its 
mature development seems scarcely able to keep 
men of advanced years from every kind of error 
and misdeed. So a father should carefully see that 
he bring much fairness and patience to the task 
of guiding and directing the slippery steps of 
youth and should sharply note any violation of 



ON EDUCATION 61 

the law of virtue or duty, and consider whether The father 
the fault be of a kind to corrupt good character, distinguish 
or whether it is the result of a kind of fermentation bet . we en 

serious 

of youth. I do not draw any such distinctions faults 

at the moment — since this is not the fitting time damage° the 

to do so. But there are certain delinquencies character, 

. ri 1-.1 • . an d those 

which a father should be prepared to ignore which are 

and tolerate, and he will be able to make some f the^fer- 

allowance to the young, provided they keep some mentation 

restraint, nor need he always insist on exercising 

his full parental rights. But in regard to some 

matters he must be more vigilant and alert, nor 

allow any opportunity for the stealthy inroad of 

such faults as only increase with years and, while 

they have an immediately bad effect upon the 

disposition, eventually — if they are not checked — 

prove the ruin of fortune and good name. Of this 

nature are gambling, debauchery, and those unruly 

lusts which Plato well calls the tyrants of the soul. 

And in regard to the class of faults first considered, 1 H °™ *° ^ al 

° ' with faults 

which is less heinous and less dangerous, if a father of each 

kind. 
1 Cf. Locke, Thoughts, p. 59, § 79 : ' Where a wrong Bent 

of the Will wants not Amendment, there can be no need of 

Blows. All other Faults, where the Mind is rightly dispos'd, 

and refuses not the Government and Authority of the Father 

or Tutor, are but Mistakes, and may often be overlook'd ; 

or when they are taken Notice of, need no other but the gentle 

Remedies of Advice, Direction, and Reproof, till the repeated 

and wilful Neglect of those shows the Fault to be in the 

Mind, and that a manifest Perverseness of the Will lies at the 

Root of their Disobedience. But whenever Obstinacy, which 

is an open Den*ance, appears, that cannot be wink'd at or 

neglected, but must, in the first Instance, be subdu'd and 

master'd ; only Care must be had, that we mistake not, and 

we must be sure it is Obstinacy and nothing else.' 



62 SADOLETO 

feels that he cannot, or ought not to ignore them, 
let him take his son alone and gently reproach 
him, revealing his care and anxiety, disclosing to 
him his fault, and earnestly beseech him not to 
seek to ruin the hopes of his father and his family, 
nor to sacrifice the reputation and the position 
which he himself desires and hopes to win. And he 
need say but little — unless I am mistaken — for 
the early training and discipline will jjold good. 
The boy as The boy himself will be a sterner critic of his own 
himself action than his father, will have less mercy on 
himself, and will feel much pain at the prayers 
and admonitions of the parent whom he dearly 
loves. If, however (though I should be reluctant 
to say a word of ill augury, since in such a family 
with such a character it is incredible that anything 
should befall contrary to our desires) — if, I say, 
there be any grave misconduct, a father must take 
stringent measures and use more serious language ; 
not to the extent of breaking out into the violent 
anger which disorders voice and feature, and ham- 
pers all the gestures of a speaker, impairs his 
dignity, and is always unseemly in a man of his 
position ; but he will copy the old man of Terence, 1 
who apparently rebuked his son with sufficient stern- 
ness : ' Now do you really suppose ' (said he) ' that 
you can be allowed while I your father am alive to 
do this sort of thing any longer ? to have a mistress 
almost in the position of a wife ? You are mistaken 
if you think that, Cleinias, and do not know me. 
I like you to be called my son so long as you 
behave in a manner worthy of yourself : otherwise 
1 Terence, Heaut. Timor. 102-8. 



ON EDUCATION 63 

I shall find a way of dealing with you worthy of 

myself.' That kind of language seems likely to 

move any erring son, and so much the more if it 

has been preceded by the training and issues from 

the lips of a father such as I have described above 

— a man who has never set his son a bad example 

to follow. But if the matter be so serious as to 

require it, there will be a remedy, not, however, to 

be adopted save in an extreme case. The father 

will show himself estranged 1 from his son and refuse 

to deal with him in the old way ; he will little by 

little curtail his former generosity and indulgence 

to him ; for either that will have the desired 

effect or he will have to take other measures. But 

whereas in dealing with a son we forbid a father 2 Flogging 

to flog him or reduce a generous nature to the except for"" 

condition of a slave, we readily admit such an ex- ? slave > who 

t -1 r improves 

pedient in the case of a slave or servant, for such with beat- 
a person — like the Phrygian in the old proverb whose chas- 
— improves with beating. And this he should be tisement 
the more careful to do if the same fault, which as salutary 
a father he deprecates in his son, is found to call t ^ s | 
for correction in a slave : that by all means the 
son may be taught that so long as he continues in 
such a disposition his father's approval is with- 
drawn from him and from his acts. But we are 
conjuring unreal visions ; in truth we feel no 
apprehension, as though that could happen against 

1 Cf. Locke, Thoughts, p. 36, § 60 ; p. 65, § 87. 

2 Cf . Quintilian, i. 3. § 14 seq. : ' Caedi vero discipulos, 
quamlibet et receptum sit et Chrysippus non improbet, 
minime velim ' ; and Locke, Thoughts, pp. 30-1, §§ 48-51 ; 
pp. 62-6, §§ 83-8 ; pp. 102-3, § 117- 



lesson to 



son. 



64 SADOLETO 

which nature herself protests. For there is no 
But there reason to anticipate that when a youth has been 
danger for brought up by such a father and on such a 
brought up system, and has been trained to walk in the right 
as we have path of virtue, his nature and tastes can turn to 

proposed. , 

depravity. 

One thing, however, a father will observe and 

notice with scrupulous attention, and that is the 

The boy's kind of companions, 1 either in the household, or 

companion- , . . , , 

ships. among his young acquaintances, who are particu- 

larly intimate with his son : ' Watch ever ; ' says 
Ennius, ' many are the snares set for our good 
things ; ' and indeed a careful father has scarcely 
time for repose. And yet, if they are well bestowed, 
there can be nothing sweeter than these cares and 
solicitudes. And in regard to the household, the 
injunction may be briefly laid down (though every 
man ought to have personal knowledge of his 
Relations domestic staff 2 ) that all should pay equal respect 
servants of an d observance to the son of the house and obey 
the house- hj s orders : but those who are to be specially 

hold. i • -i t i 

concerned with daily attendance upon him should 
be individually chosen by his father. Should any 
one else, however, going beyond his duty be too 
eager to make his way into intimate relations and 
association with the young man, he ought to be 
driven back as having no good purpose. In the 
case of young men, the risk is greater, for in a large 
circle of acquaintance, 3 there is often a greater 

1 Cf . Locke, Thoughts, p. 128, § 146 : ' The tincture of 
Company sinks deeper than the outside.' 

2 Cf. ibid., pp. 102-3, § 1Z 7 '• Manners to servants. 

3 On the influence of Companionship generally, cf. Elyot, 



ON EDUCATION 65 

difference in character — and there are some, older, Undesirable 
perhaps even quite advanced in age, who seek to tancesto be 
satisfy their own desires at the cost of that tender warned off— 
and pliable age : association with them is pecu- 
liarly damaging to good character. They should be 
warned off, just as birds of prey are frightened away 
from a poultry-yard by cries and shouts. But it 
is not right to cut a youth off from the companion- 
ship of those of his own age. And so all such but a boy 
dangers as I have indicated have been met since ^tabieT 6 
the earliest times by the employment of diligent companions 
and careful tutors. These are in constant contact a ge. 
with their young charges keeping them within the 
bounds of duty, and opposing any tendency to 
vice : such men should be chosen Jby a father for The aid of 
their high character and trustworthiness. But tutor^n 11 
though the industry and care of these men some- safe-guard- 
times counts for much, young men have no surer 
bulwarks of virtue than the sense of shame, of 
which I have already spoken ; regular consistent 
discipline at home, and above all the grave wisdom 
of a father. When a son has drunk deep of this in- 
fluence in daily intercourse, and become thoroughly 
tinctured by the example and training received 
from his father at home ; when he has carried His home 
with him into public life the noble patterns of w?n be°come 
honour and integrity which have settled deep a part of 
in his mind and compared the manners and tastes 
of others with his own, then he will begin to 
mark and note how vast is the difference be- 
tween himself and those who have not come out 

Gov. II. xiv : ' The election of frendes and the diuersitie of 
flaterers.' 

1754 „ 



66 SADOLETO 

of a similar training, nor enjoyed so great a blessing 

of heaven. Then he will congratulate himself on 

his good fortune, and will rejoice to make daily 

test and trial of the high character and habits so 

formed, tasting the fruit of them not only in the 

He will internal joy and satisfaction that he feels, but in 

the results the honour paid him by his contemporaries, the 

trarniner 00d admiration bestowed on him by his elders, and the 

and signal evidences of goodwill which greet him on 

all sides. Stimulated by this love and approbation, 

he will ever be encouraged to further efforts, will 

daily become more firmly grounded by habit in 

all well-doing, will show marked kindness to 

try to others, will help those whom he can, will be 

further and courteous to all, offensive to none, and while 

them by he will knit the upright and good to him with 

efforts. closer bonds of intimacy, he will not contemn 

others. In all his words and actions he will study 

to exhibit a dignity of demeanour, not of the 

grave and reverend kind that befits those of riper 

years, but such as allied with cheerfulness and 

Youthful modesty excellently becomes youth. In short he 

combined ^^ carry with him from his home-life into the 

with cheer- circle of his young companions a virtue, dignity 

modesty, and loftiness of character like his father's, not of 

course in vigorous maturity, but ripening with 

his youth ; so that many of those in his own 

station and of his own age, who observe and are 

influenced by the bright and gracious beauty 

The spread of this good example, will be seen resolving to 

tradftkm try to copy it. We may judge from this how 

benefits the pr rea tly the community will benefit if ever this 

whole com- ° J J 

munity. plan of sound training of the young should 



ON EDUCATION 67 

have a wide vogue when we see how, from time The force 
to time, a single virtuous youth can easily fire o? youthful 
almost all his fellows 1 to emulate his example. example. 

Paul. When I hear you speak like this, father, 
I can scarcely conceal my delight ; for by the 
bounty of Almighty God, I have had the advantage 
of being trained in pursuit of virtue, by discipline 
from which I now begin to reap some of the fruits 
which you have enumerated. But when a youth 
has once been led into this condition of life and 
this practice of virtue, what, I beg you, does he 
still need to make him successful and happy ? 

Jac. He needs that, Paullus, which is most of all 
needful, Virtue herself : good habits we have often 
declared are the shadow of Virtue. But we must still the boy 
track down and hold the substance, that we be g00 d 
not, as it were, tricked in our sleep by empty ghadoVof 3 
visions, but be wide awake and possess ourselves virtue: 

"Virtue tier*" 

completely and in all reality, of the highest good. se if must 
Paul. Now I see you mean philosophy. be added - 

Jac. Yes, I do. For philosophy 2 is the one thing 

1 Cf. Locke, Thoughts, pp. 45, &c, §§ 69-71 : The influence 
of Example and Company. 

2 On the Study of Philosophy, cf. Elyot, Gov. I. xi, p. 47 ; 
xiii, p. 60 ; and xiv, p. 69 : ' And they whom nature therto 
nothinge meueth, haue nat only saued all that time, which 
many now a dayes do consume in idlenesse, but also have 
wonne suche a treasure, whereby they shall alway be able 
to serue honourably theyr prince, and the publike weale of 
theyr countray, principally if they conferre al their doctrines 
to the moste noble studie of morall philosophic, whiche 
teacheth both vertues, maners, and ciuile policie : wherby 
at the laste we shoulde haue in this realme sumciencie of 
worshypfull lawyars, and also a publike weale equiualent to 
the grekes or Romanes.' 

F 2 



68 



SADOLETO 



Philosophy 
gives 

virtue her 
final 
perfection. 



Truth— 
the su- 
preme 
source of 
a well- 
ordered 
and truly 
blessed 
life. 



without which (except for the special favour of 
heaven) no man can, at all events by his own 
counsel, become wise or blessed. 

Paul. Why not, then, at once, turn to this third 
division of our theme ? For here, I imagine, we 
find philosophy, which as you say gives virtue 
her complete and final perfection. For much as 
I am charmed by what you have already said and 
are now saying, still I fain would reach the source 
and fountain-head of all the virtues. 

Jac. There still remains one subject more, 
Paullus, on which I must say a word : and this, 
though of first rank in dignity and profit, I have 
for the convenience of our discussion placed last. 
I have so far said not a word about Truth. Now 
Truth is the supreme source not merely of a well- 
ordered but of a truly wise and blessed life. 
Without it nothing honourable or wise or generous 
or great can be produced. For what man — I will 
not say habituated to lying and deceit (for he is 
rather a monster than a man), but a little inclining 
his mind to the belief that it is permissible to think 
one thing and say another, and to have a tongue 
that is at variance with his heart — is fit to be 
placed among those in whom we hope to form the 
image and model of high worth for the days to 
come ? 

Paul. Indeed, I think we must reject him, who- 
ever he is. But all this had not occurred to me, 
even though I can now begin to appreciate, from 
you mainly but also from Aristotle himself (whom 
by your advice and example I hold in my hands), 
this great, this excellent blessing of truth. But 



ON EDUCATION 69 

I would like to hear from you why you have 
reserved all mention of this, as you yourself say, 
till the last stage of the discussion. 

Jac. The fact is that it extends over both 
provinces, every kind of learning and knowledge 
falls within its scope, and it covers also good con- The pro- 
duct ; but I have reserved the consideration of it Truth 
to this place, because I have said what I had to ^^ d ^ ow . 
say (not, of course, all that might be said, but I hope ledge and 
enough) with regard to the conduct and domestic 
training by which a youth must be habituated to 
all that is correct and seemly in behaviour. But 
now we turn to what are not so much matters 
of habit as of fixed principle, or of will directed 
by its proper knowledge and reason : and we 
place truth (which as we have said holds a pre- 
eminent and dominant position in both provinces 
of Education) in this place as by special right, 
so that being as she is supreme in each of these 
two provinces, she may yet, with the selfsame 
undivided authority, enforce discipline upon the 
moral elements in human character, elements 
which yield a laborious and yet a willing obedience 
to a good counsellor, and also be the leader of the 
elements which depend on wisdom and learning. 

Paul. As if you were to call truth the bond by 
which these two kinds of elements were held 
together. 

Jac. More than that ; for truth is the luminary 
by which both are created and illumined ; it is The reia- 
more powerful than the sun which rises on us xrat£ f to 
day by day, for the sun brings the light of day to morality 
our eyes, but truth brings it to our minds ; the tophy. 



70 SAD0LET0 

sun makes things appear -to be what they are, 
truth 1 causes them to be what they are.. But this 
inner illumination is properly and closely pursued 
by philosophy herself, for philosophy spends all 
her energy and care upon the effort to attain this 
light by the perception of truth — and when she 
has won it and made it really her own, she dwells 
in the light of truth, and raises its beams far and 
wide upon those who are wandering in the world, 
so that they, guided by the communication of 
this light, may the less fall and be confounded in 
the darkness of that region in which the greatest 
throng and the utmost variety of men pass their 
fleeting and fitful life. For these, though not wholly 
bereft of light, are yet oppressed and enwrapped 
by many shadows, which move in vaster masses 
the further they are removed from the higher 
light ; and so very often are deceived in the objects 
of their desire, and seize and embrace evil things 
as if they were good, and when they believe that 
they are planting their feet upon sure ground, 
slip and fall headlong. This light, which is the 

1 Compare (and contrast) with this Plato, Rep. vi. 509-10 : 
' The good may be said to be not only the author of know- 
ledge to all things known, but of their being and essence.' 
Cic. Acad. ii. 10. 30 : ' Mens enim ipsa, quae sensuum fons 
est atque etiam ipsa sensus est, naturalem vim habet, quam 
intendit ad ea, quibus movetur. itaque alia visa sic arripit, 
ut iis statim utatur, alia quasi recondit, e quibus memoria 
oritur. . . . quocirca et sensibus utjtur et artes efficit, quasi 
sensus alteros, et usque eo philosophiam ipsam corroborat, 
ut virtutem efficiat, ex qua re una vita omnis apta est. ergo 
ii, qui negant quicquam posse comprehend!, haec ipsa 
eripiunt vel instrumenta vel ornamenta vitae . . .' 



ON EDUCATION 71 

reason implanted in every man, kindled and fed The light 
by the most trustworthy forms of knowledge and ° 
learning, which points out the path for itself in 
every plan and every action, standing in no need 
of guidance from any other source — this light, 
I say, philosophy keeps in her breast. The road 
which leads to philosophy will soon be indicated 
in the third part of our treatise on Education. 
But if the truth dwells most perfectly and com- 
pletely in this light, so also there is a ray of light 
and therefore of truth in that other and lower * form The lower 
of virtue, which as we said is based on discipline virtue! 

and precept. It is a ray which casts not an ba sfd 

■ •11 1 -1 ii • 1 • on disa- 

origmal beam but a borrowed gleam into this piine and 

region. And in regard to this there remained brightened 
something still to be said before our observations b Y a 

1 • t iii ii borrowed 

upon conduct and discipline could be regarded as gleam from 
complete — and we have kept what we had to £ht! lgher 
say till this point, in order that the passage might 
be made easy from the ray to the fount of light, 
from the image of truth to truth itself. 

Paul. It was a convenient and proper arrange- 
ment. But is there a man who, reflecting on what 
you say, could fail to be enamoured by the study 
of philosophy ? 

Jac. It should be as you suppose ; and yet, 
Paullus, there are men who despise philosophy, There are 
and even revile her, and bring her into disfavour despisJand 
with the multitude. revile 

Paul. These are ill-natured men of whom you tell ° s ° p y " 
me ; but you have long since undertaken a defence 

1 Cf. Plato, Rep. x. 619 d : ' His virtue was a matter of 
habit only, and he had no philosophy.' 



72 SADOLETO 

of philosophy against detractors of this sort, and 
many of your friends constantly and urgently press 
upon you the duty of completing and some day pro- 
begs ducing it — among these are two men of the highest 
complete* cu ^ ure ' an d mos "t warmly attached to yourself, I 
the defence mean, Paolo Giovio and Lazzaro Bonamici — indeed 
has under- what your own estimate is both of their goodness 
^hXsoph anc ^ *h e i r learning, I often hear from your lips. 

Jac. Of course, you hear me speak of men who 
are very dear friends of my own, and have the 
highest title to the affection of all men — in each 
of them our age possesses a brilliant ornament. 
Giovio is equipped not only with the physician's 
lore, in which he is distinguished both for his 
knowledge and his art and for the service and 
benefit which he brings from it to his friends, 
but also with every liberal and generous accom- 
plishment. Specially is he remarkable for his 
eloquence, and for a certain magnificence of style 
in the exhibition of which as a writer of history 
he brings to his own age the credit and glory of the 
best writers of the past. As for Lazzaro, his 
learning in Latin and Greek Literature, and 
specially in philosophy of which we are speaking, 
is so vast, and the vigour of his fine intellect 
such, that when we listen to him we find that 
there is not one of the older or of contemporary 
scholars from whom we can expect a richer store of 
knowledge, nor an ampler rhetoric — and this com- 
bination of gifts is all the more admirable because 
he has so fashioned his life and his character 
that in every office of goodness and benevolence 
he seems to have taken philosophy as a guide not 



ON EDUCATION 73 

for learned disquisition but for practical service. 

For me to refuse them what you say they ask of 

me, I should regard as not less than sinful. And Perhaps 

perhaps — who knows ? — it may turn out that it f our 

was by some divine direction that our present 2 u ^ en 

inquirv has been placed before that towards which divinely 

A ,^ J r directed. 

they press me. 

Paul. How so ? 

Jac. Why, in order that we may climb step by 
step, and as it were by a smoother course from 
these rules and discipline for fashioning right 
conduct, to those higher counsels of philosophy 
and at last to the very summit of virtue. 

Paul. Very likely indeed ; God always aids 
those whose thoughts and purposes are good. 

Jac. Let us return, Paullus, to that part of We return 
truth which we said belonged to moral discipline ; province of 
or rather, let us try to render that province of moral disci- 
truth more intelligible. 

Paul. What method do you mean ? 

Jac. The false, I suppose, is an essence or 
quality in the highest degree opposed and hostile 
to the truth. 

Paul. Certainly. 

Jac. And there are two kinds of falseness ? ^falseness 

Paul. What are they ? 

Jac. One kind is manifested, when we deceive The first is 
ourselves and, led on by some base idea or 5on decep 
fettered by some specious and alluring arguments 
(which are of the greater potency to move and 
persuade us if they have fastened upon an ally in 
the form of some passion strong in us), we imagine 
that we have knowledge which we do not really 



74 SADOLETO 

possess, and root ourselves firmly and confidently 
in our error. This happens when we suppose that 
what is, is not, or that that which is not, is, or 
that anything does not belong to the kind, the 
class, the quality or essence to which it really 
belongs, but to some other. 
Paul. I understand. 

Jac. This falseness, Paullus, which is the foun- 
tain-head of error, deceit, and every kind of igno- 
rance, is most antagonistic both to the Gods and 
men : although of course falseness and error 
cannot overtake the divine nature itself ; never- 
theless, as though diametrically opposed to the 
eternal principle of truth, it has availed to mislead 
not only the hearts of men day after day, but even 
upon occasion those celestial and incorporeal 
beings also. And indeed our life is afflicted and 
tormented by no evil more dangerous, by no 
plague more shrewd and destructive, than by this 
scourge of ignorance which takes itself for know- 
ledge. From it spring pride and arrogance, from 
The results it unbridled and unrestrained desires, from it 
ranSTand exaggerated self-love and the inability to distin- 
seif-decep- g U i s h between right and wrong ; from this source, 

tlOIl. ° in- l-i 

moreover, there flows into our lives that countless 
host of misfortunes, anger, enmities, wars, slaugh- 
ters, the utter overthrow of states and peoples, 
the almost uninterrupted feud which man wages 
not only against others, but against himself and 
within his own breast, and the often terrible dis- 
putes with his countrymen and fellow citizens, and 
connexions and kindred ; finally, by the baneful 
influence of this immeasurable evil every kind of 



ON EDUCATION 75 

human society, which by the obligation of nature 
itself is harmoniously established and ratified, 
comes sooner or later to be outraged, violated, and 
torn to shreds. 

Paul. Great indeed, my father, are the evils 
which you attribute to ignorance. 

Jac. You cannot marvel at that since ignorance 
quenches that light which is the intelligence of 
our soul, and robs it of sight by deceitful entice- 
ments, as though by a brand thrust into the eye ; 
if (as we must believe) all these evils are full of 
error and recklessness and divers causes of offence. 
But all this vast mischief philosophy alone holds The remedy 
out the promise of being able to remove ; nay, she j?*^-^ 
makes her promise good if she is fitly treated and philosophy 
directed by faith and religion to God and the rehgion, 
supreme good of the universe. And the power 
to direct her so has been granted by the favour 
of heaven to us and to us alone who worship 
God and the Son of God. 

Paul. I agree, this is the splendid gift of philoso- 
phy and the Christian Religion. 

Jac. Yes, experience has proved that it is as 
you say, Paullus ; but as this is not the time to 
dwell on these matters longer, let us turn to the 
other kind (or part) of the false with which we 
are now dealing. 

Paul. Indeed I could wish you to pause long 
over these topics ; for there is nothing that I 
would more gladly hear, and I am once more 
inflamed with love of philosophy. But I fear that 
my own ignorance may stand in the way of my 
attaining it. 



7 6 



SADOLETO 



Paullus' 
ignorance 
is that of 
a man ready 
to learn. 



The con- 
sciousness 
and the 
confession 
of igno- 
rance con- 
stitute the 
first truth 
of philo- 
sophy. 



The second 
kind of 
falseness — 
the decep- 
tion of 
others — 



Jac. Not at all, Paullus, you must have no fear 
in regard to your own ignorance, which is of the 
kind that is ready for learning and receiving like 
a house which is indeed bare and empty, but waiting 
to be filled with good furniture. It is against 
another kind of ignorance that you must promise 
me to be on your guard, ignorance which is packed 
with false opinions and holds stubbornly to them, 
hugging gilded brass, as if it were pure gold, and 
setting no higher store upon true riches ; the time 
will come, or let me say, is come, when you 
shall satisfy your desire, and become master of the 
noblest objects of love of which you are already 
able to get some taste from your study of Aris- 
totle's ethics, lately begun. 

Paul. May God, the creator of our race, who, 
when it became defiled and lost, became its 
Saviour through His only-begotten Son — may God 
to whom I devote myself with my whole mind 
and heart, grant that it may be so. 

Jac. Nay, to feel and to act in this way is in 
itself the first and the supreme truth of philosophy. 
But now, pray, consider what this second kind 
of falseness is. 

PauL Please tell me. 

Jac. This kind of falseness, springing like a 
branch or shoot from a root of that first kind of 
which we have spoken is seen in such an instance 
as this : Suppose a man does not deceive himself, 
but with callous cunning seeks to hoodwink and 
deceive another with regard to the facts, in order 
to lead him into error, and offering him something 
quite different from what he expects, to seduce him 



ON EDUCATION jj 

and carry him far from the truth — I say that this 
second kind of falseness springs from the first 
because no man would seek to hoodwink and 
entangle another in a network of deceit unless 
he had himself first become the prey and victim 
of the corrupt belief, that it is right to seek, by 
any means whatever, the food to glut his greed, which, 
and his desires of every kind. But this bad habit frJmlSf- 
and practice of deceiving and lying has through j^g 6 ^ 01 ^ 
the conventions and modes of our daily life so a habit, a 
spread and flowed through almost every channel andper- 
and function of it, that it seems to have left very va 4es 

J society. 

small space indeed for the truth in our intercourse 
with our fellows. 

Paul. Every one confesses it. 

Jac. What is to prevent us from confessing 
what is obvious ? For where is there a man, who 
has made but the slightest initial study of our 
social life, or considered with what sort of honour 
the dealings of men with one another are conducted, 
but recognizes that just as soldiers in battle use 
their swords for cutting down or seizing their 
enemies, so in their daily relationship men use 
treachery and deceit, for these are weapons which 
knavery puts into a man's hand for holding his 
neighbour, whom he tries to trip up, and thus 
make his way the more easily towards the objects 
of his desire. 

Yet though out of vogue in contemporary 
manners and conduct, though neglected and set 
at naught, the rarer it is, the brighter and the more 
precious a possession is honour. I know that 
shrewd, sharp, subtle fellows are held to be men 



78 SADOLETO 

of the greatest account, and sometimes win popular 

applause ; I know that men who have learned to 

ingenious carry off a clever deceit or practise an ingenious 

fraud often J r ° 

commended fraud, and to use every circumstance to contribute 
secretfl t° their own success and pleasure, are considered 
detested great men even in the palaces of princes ; yet 
those who I know too that this way of life and the conduct 
practise it. Q £ suc ^ men j s never sa f Cj b u -t always vile in their 

own eyes, and full of evil results for others. For 
there can be no real dignity, nor beauty, nor 
confidence, nor security against misfortune or 
accident, if truth is lacking ; but when truth 
establishes itself in a man's breast, making a union 
with it, ratified by a sacred pledge, and sharing 
The tribute in all his words and all his acts, it gives him among 
world to men a certain position and reputation of a wonder- 

th^trutMui fr^ sor ^> as *£ ne were a God in human form. 

man. A father ought, therefore, to keep his son free from 

the disgrace and defilement of this second type 
of falseness (for of course a youth is not susceptible 
to that first kind of falseness, against the attack 
of which philosophy herself must be the defender), 
and he ought carefully to warn him against the 
habit of thinking one thing and saying another. 
With a boy, such warning is easy, for the sins 
of boyhood rarely spring from real wicked- 
ness. But when the boy has reached early man- 
hood, he must be more strictly and definitely 
taught to believe and hold as a fixed principle 
that no man can attain strength of character, 
nor the form of good conduct, nor the good esteem 
which he desires from his comrades, nor the 
honourable position which is the goal of all his 



ON EDUCATION 79 

ambition, if he is without honour and probity ; so 
that he may learn to recoil from a lie, and keep his 
tongue always as it were in harmony with his Theimpor- 
thought — not only in speech, in conversation with ear i y 
his fellows, is he to say what is straightforward, t ^ amm s * n 

' J ... sincere 

true and transparent ; he must not admit into his utterance 

, 1 ■ ■ i 1 _j_i- j. £ -j. 1 and sincere 

plans or his deeds anything counterfeit or unreal ; ac tion. 
for as deeds count for more than words, it is more 
disgraceful to lie and deceive by conduct than by 
speech. Now we may say that men lie by what 
our friend calls the mischief of a cunning tongue, 
when they spread a veil of seeming honesty over 
some none-too-honest desire ; they do not consult There is 
the truth, nor guide themselves by consideration viler than 
of what is fit and right, but direct their course to the h yP°~ 

; _ cnsy of 

some quite different object — than this lying virtue conduct. 
no vice is more horrible. Indeed this pretence of 
goodness which they put up does not last long, 
and is at once detected by those who are at all 
clear-sighted ; in a handshake, a turn of an eye, The hypo- 
an expression of the face, they quickly give away easily 55 
their secret. Truth can never be completely detected, 
hidden and obscured or prevented from escaping 
at some point from her prison into the light of 
day ; and when these simulators of virtue are 
overtaken, and their masks torn off, revealed to 
men's eyes for what they are, they find themselves 
caught by a more violent storm of indignant 
reproach than if from the first they had made an 
open boast of their wickedness. 

Now if a youth genuinely devotes himself to 
virtue and draws from truth the decoration and 
distinction of his life, he will allow no place for 



8o 



SADOLETO 



Even in 
jest there 
should be 
respect for 
truth, and 
a sense of 
proportion. 



Imitation 
and decep- 
tion. 



pretence or deception in his conduct ; except 
indeed sometimes by way of jest, 1 when his aim 
will not be deceit, but amusement ; and even then 
he will show restraint, and a gentle consideration, 
lest he should really injure a man of whom he only 
wishes to make sport. And to make sport cleverly 
and suitably is often of course to give a sauce to 
friendly intercourse — it must not be understood 
that we wish to make a young man rigid or morose 
or stiff ; but, on the contrary, gay and affable, 
going forward to receive all the gifts which youth 
has to offer him, but taking with him as he goes his 
own sense of proportion and fitness. Imitation is 
closely allied with and easily passes into deception, 
for what is imitation but to assume the semblance 
of that which you are not ? If by your imitation 2 

1 Cf . Aristotle, Ethics, iv. 8 (Peters' translation) : ' Since 
relaxation is an element in our life, and one mode of relaxa- 
tion is amusing conversation, it seems that in this respect 
also there is a proper wa of mixing with others, i. e. that 
there are things that it is right to say, and a right way of 
saying them : and the same with hearing ; though here also 
it will make a difference what kind of people they are in whose 
presence you are speaking, or to whom you are listening. 
And it is plain that it is possible in these matters also to go 
beyond, or to fall short of, the mean. Now those who go to 
excess in ridicule seem to be buffoons and vulgar fellows, 
striving at all costs for a ridiculous effect, and bent rather on 
raising a laugh than on making their witticisms elegant and 
inoffensive to the subject of them. While those who will 
never say anything laughable themselves, and frown on those 
who do, are considered boorish and morose. But those who 
jest gracefully are called witty, or men of ready wit, as it 
were ready or versatile men.' 

2 Cf. Rep. iii. 395 : ' If they imitate at all, they should 
imitate from youth upward only those characters which are 



ON EDUCATION 81 

you render and fashion forth acts which are good 
and honourable ; if you imitate the carriage and 
the look of one who has borne bodily pain with 
courage, or shown temperance in enjoyment, or 
retrieved a lost battle — if you call up such a man 
to our imagination by voice, movement, pose, the 
imitation deserves praise ; it is no foe, but rather 
an advocate of truth. Indeed we may say that imitation 
the discipline and training in domestic morals, an vir ue * 
about which we have been speaking, is an imita- 
tion of the true virtue. But if you bend imitation 
to baser purposes and consent to imitate the action 
of certain players, or the look of some stage- 
gallants, and their deeds and sayings, for the sake 
of raising a laugh, then we must declare that no- 
thing can be less dignified than such play-acting, 
nothing more opposed to self-respect and self- 
control ; for it is a sign of the utmost insensibility, 
nay, of stupidity, and want of judgement, to be 
ready to make oneself a laughing-stock ; and there 
can be no elements of fine feeling left in a man 
whose conduct is intended to provoke ridicule. 

But if we banish this base and discreditable Our system 
form of amusement, we yet leave many modes of f^iJ 
happiness and merriment to youth. For if it is merriment, 
to be the ambition of the youth whom our system sport and 
of training is moulding to excel his fellows in ^^cL 
every adornment and distinction of virtue, yet 
it becomes him to enter eagerly and upon equal 

suitable to their profession — the courageous, temperate, holy, 
free and the like ; but they should not depict or be skilful at 
imitating any kind of illiberality or baseness, lest from 
imitation they should come to be what they imitate.' 

1754 Q 



exercises. 



82 SADOLETO 

terms with his age-fellows ' into those occupations 

which are the common delight of the young — 

running, leaping, playing — and into those games 

by which the body is exercised — sometimes he 

must lead a dance, or give a banquet, laugh gaily, 

But in cause amusement by witty speeches, yet so as 

andamuse- i n au "this to preserve, what we have spoken of 

ment there somewhat too often, that restraint which is in 

must be 

that re- f act the secret of propriety : and it will not be 

which is the difficult for him to observe this, formed as he is 

secret of by paternal counsel and home training, through 

which by imperceptible degrees the fair fashion of 

seemly conduct has been woven into the very 

texture of his behaviour. And the result is that 

while his comrades love him for his friendliness, 

the warmth and geniality of his nature, they also 

feel for him a certain wondering reverence on 

account of his sterling goodness, and the exquisite 

perfection of his manners ; they have complete 

confidence in him in every relationship, and seek 

The youth -j- pi ace themselves, as willing vassals, under his 

trained in r ° 

our system guidance and rule ; and while many will consciously 

will become ., • _. -,• n i_ n i_ ■ jj-i 

a leader, strive to copy mm, all who know him, and daily 
enjoy his familiar society, will acquire in their 
own manners some traces of his excellence ; but 
there will be some who will come nearer still, 
and will try to become really like him — and thus 
as I have said elsewhere, and must say again and 
again, it is easy to estimate how great is the 
benefit which must accrue to a state, pre-emi- 
nently of course, from the national establishment 
and maintenance of a sound system of education 
for boys, and, in a measure only second to that, 



ON EDUCATION 83 

from the influence or the example of a single youth 

who has been well trained. 

You, Paullus, have been able to judge of this 

very well lately from your own experience. You 

know how the young men of our own city fix their 

regard upon you more than on any other, how they 

turn to you, and take a peculiar delight in your 

acquaintanceship ; and so you have lately been 

able to check their habit of speaking evil of their The infm- 

neighbours, a habit which had grown in them of Sims 

eagerly, and as it were with relish, disparaging himself on 

J . ,, . ,, his con- 

others : shrinking as you naturally did from such temporaries 

a practice yourself, you were able in a friendly evidence. 

way to beg them to abandon it ; and thus, thanks 

to you, they have all become more restrained in 

their speech. 

Paul. Indeed, I do not see what good I can have 
done ; and moreover if I ever do any good the 
credit must be given, not to me, but to you. But 
of course I both recognize and confess that it will 
be a great distinction, and a great advantage to 
a State, to have her young men properly educated : 
and for that end I could pray that all should adopt 
and follow the rules of life which you laid down 
for me. A youth who has had the benefit of this 
training and discipline may certainly claim that he 
has enjoyed a supreme evidence of the kindness of 
heaven towards him. 

Jac. Indeed it is so, Paullus ; and it must be 
our prayer to God that He will grant a share in 
this kindness to as many as possible. But now 
that we have gone through our scheme for the 
training of character and conduct, let us make a 

G 2 



84 SADOLETO 

fresh beginning, and return (like runners on a last 
lap) once more, and for the third time, to our start- 
ing-point — the beginnings of a boy's education. 
Theinstruc- Paul. You mean, I understand, to draw out a 
youth in scheme for the instruction and equipment of youth 
letters and m letters and what we call the liberal arts. 

the liberal 

arts. Jac. I do. We must lead our pupils to the 

dwelling-place where true virtue resides, not to 
the stage where counterfeit virtue is displayed. 
The shrine Paul. We must lead them from their household 
and the gods to the shrine of Apollo and the Muses. 1 

perfection 6 J UC - Sha11 We not Iather lead them to that 

of the Wisdom, which, springing from the heart of the 

Father with whom it is linked in indissoluble union 
and harmony by the spirit of love, manifested itself 
long ago to illumine the life of men ; and though 
it remained none the less unmoved in the Father's 
being, yet bestowed itself upon us, so as to arouse in 
us who were cast down in the dust, and had no up- 
ward glancing thoughts, the sure hope of heavenly 
blessings and immortal life ? For to that is due all 
perfection, which is to be contemplated best in the 
Trinity. 

' Classical ' Paul. That 2 would certainly have been a better 

tian ' phra-" expression, but I was speaking in the Latin 

seoiogy. manner. 

Jac. I should be very far from blaming you for 

1 Cf. Plato, Rep. 427 b. 

2 Cf. Sir Richard Jebb in the Cambridge Modem History, 
vol. i : ' The Classical Renaissance ', pp. 564-5 . ' Another 
trait of the time, justly ridiculed by Erasmus, was the fashion 
of using pagan paraphrases for Christian ideas or for things 
wholly modern.' Perhaps we have here a 'Christian' para- 
phrase for a ' pagan ' idea. 



ON EDUCATION 85 

that, Paullus ; for you are surely at liberty to make 
some concession to the genius and bent of the 
language which you elect to use. I, too, speaking 
without careful precision about divine things, gladly 
avail myself of the familiar images, a*nd turn to 
the Latin language to illustrate my meaning. To 
be sure, if we sometimes speak of the ' Immortal 
Gods', using the plural number, it is the sound, 
not the exact sense of those words that we covet, 
so that our speech may flow more brilliantly and 
boldly on, not shrinking from the form which tradi- 
tion has made venerable ; nay, if our language is 
embellished and equipped with the wealth which 
it inherits from antiquity, it brings greater weight, 
and a certain increase of power to the task 
of revealing what is true, and holy, and right, 
and of giving stimulus and impulse to proper 
conduct. 

Paul. The utmost care must be bestowed on 
language and style — that is how I understand you. 

Jac. Yes, and especially if you wish to attempt 
or achieve anything distinguished. For, if it was 
your lot to live alone, by yourself, philosophy, or 
that which is the object of our quest — virtue or 
wisdom, would suffice for itself and ask for nothing 
more ; but you have to live in a large society, and 
have to enter into and maintain a traffic with men 
in regard to every interest, concern, and common 
duty which bind you and them together, and if so, 
if this human society is to be maintained in easy 
effectiveness, there is no instrument of more signal sp ^edi— ° f 
use than the art of speech. And that is why I often necessary 
make it my business (and indeed I shall often make intercourse. 



86 SADOLETO 

it) to commend you before all else to these studies 
from which a distinguished and lofty mode or style 
of speech can be acquired — and I do this all the 
more earnestly because I am far from discontented 
with the progress you are making, and the ex- 
cellent promise you give. 

Paul. I will do what I can to please you by my 
care and labour ; but what may be achieved by 
me, I shall leave to your guidance entirely. 

Jac. We will both devote ourselves to this,Paullus, 
so that the issue may not disappoint us. But let 
us choose another starting-point for our discussion, 
and return to the subject of childhood, on which 
we have now so often begun to speak ; let us try 
to lead boys by some new way, some new track to 
the pursuit of virtue ; for though all the excellent 
things said to boys now about virtue are perfectly 
true, they win credence, but not intelligent appre- 
hension from them. 
The third This is, as it were, the third and last act in our 
and last act ar cr U ment ; it must be better than those which 

m our argu- ° 

ment. have preceded it, and must lead our youths to a 

position from which, not content with following 
Example— the footsteps of others, they will learn to look, as 
principle, if from a watch-tower, with their own eyes, choos- 
ing their goal and electing the path towards it 
under the command of their own judgement and 
will. Therefore, 1 as soon as a boy has learnt to 
speak correctly, to bring out his words clearly and 
with precision, and to throw out some little sparks 
of boyish wit, his father should most carefully 

1 Cf. Locke, Thoughts, pp. 129, &c, §§ 148, &c. The order 
of Studies. 



ON EDUCATION 87 

lead him to the notion and the desire of learning The boy 
to read. This can be very effectively done, if he to U speak 
invites some small boys, a little in advance of his ^ n c ^. 
own age, who have made some progress in reading ; rectly, be- 

^"^ TO T*f* Tl f* 

he will listen to them, and in the hearing of his own i earns to 
boy, praise their performance, and caress them, read - 
and perhaps give them some little present or prize 1 
— for the ambition of a child will be kindled for He will 
those studies in which he sees another winning such emu?ate and 
approbation ; and he himself will ask, nay, he will others who 
beg for those same writing tablets, and those very in advance 
exercises to be given to him. And those which are himself - 
to be given to him must be themselves beautiful 
and pleasant and written in clear letters, so that 
by every attraction which can move children of He must be 
that age, the boy may be allured to a passionate ^lovtfof 
love for reading. For we must always carefully reading, 
make sure that appetite for reading is present There must 
and so keen that a feeling of surfeit may never foriJ^ng. 
follow. 

Yet though the father 2 may himself be a man 
of wide and liberal culture in arts and letters, able 
to teach his son, and eminently fitted to give him 
instruction in every sort of learning, I should still 

1 Quintilian, Inst. Or. i. 1. 20 : ' Lusus hie sit : et rogetur 
et laudetur et nunquam non fecisse se gaudeat, aliquando ipso 
nolente doceatur alius, cui invideat ; contendat interim et 
saepius vincere se putet : praemiis etiam, quae capit ilia 
aetas, evocetur.' And i. 3. 6 : ' Mihi ille detur puer, quern 
laus excitet, quern gloria iuvet, qui victus fleat.' Cf. Locke, 
Thoughts, pp. 33-4, §§ 54-5. 

2 Cf. Quintilian, i. 1. 6 : 'In parentibus vero quam 
plurimum esse eruditionis optaverim. Nee de patribus tantum 
loquor.' Quintilian expects more from women than Sadoleto. 



88 



SADOLETO 



A tutor 
should be 
appointed, 
even though, 
the father 
be a man of 
liberal 
culture. 



Difficulty 
of finding 
a good 
tutor — 
specialists 
may be had, 
but men of 
real and 
comprehen- 
sive learn- 
ing are rare. 



advise the appointment of. a suitable tutor, 1 whose 
time is set apart entirely for his work, and who is 
free from every other engagement or business, and 
can devote himself absolutely to the charge of in- 
structing the boy. The father is bound often to 
be called away by various claims, sometimes out 
of doors and sometimes within his own household. 
This counsel of ours of electing a tutor is supported 
by Cicero. Though such was the brilliance of his 
genius and such the lustre of his attainments in 
letters and every sort of knowledge, that he seems 
rather to have enriched and adorned eloquence, 
than to have borrowed any decoration from her, 
he yet employed the service of other men in edu- 
cating his own son. But though this counsel is 
easy to prescribe, in fact, as experience shows, it 
is most difficult to carry out. For there are but 
few men — did I say few ? No, let us rather pray 
that there might be any, who had grasped the 
meaning of true wisdom, and firmly held that secret 
which like a bond keeps together in a system all the 
elements of that liberal culture, that wisdom on 
which alone our hope is fixed in our training and 
education of a boy — and did not devote themselves 
for ostentation, or money-making, or popular 
favour, to learning the several arts in isolation, as 
if learning meant being ignorant of the very object 
for the sake of which learning is undertaken at all. 
But I have spoken about this common and 



1 For this whole passage cf. Locke, Thoughts, pp. 75-77. 
Cf. Elyot, Gov. I. vi : ' At what age a tutour shulde be pro- 
uided, and what shall appertaine to his office to do.' I. ix : 
' What exacte diligence shulde be in chosinge maisters.' 



ON EDUCATION 89 

almost universal mistake in my Praise of Philoso- 
phy, and shall have occasion to speak of it often 
elsewhere. Let us now turn once more to the boy, 
whom we have in our charge, and set over him, 
from some school of letters, a master in whose 
character we have confidence, and whose diligence 
in his task is well known ; a man who shall exact The tutor 
the daily tale of reading and writing from the boy the * daily 
strictly, yet without harshness, without threats or Elding and 
violence ; for we must be on our guard lest the boy writing, 
begin to hate learning, at a time when he cannot harshness. 
love it for its own sake. The boy must rather be 
encouraged by hope and praise, and sometimes 
a bargain may be made, that when he has given 
himself several hours for boyish games, he shall 
devote one to his master. 

Reading and writing are the first lessons, the The eie- 
very elements of instruction for a boy. He must Sstiuction 
learn to read * and write 2 readily and rapidly, to —* ea - d ™8 

J . . and writing. 

recognize the letters without the least hesitation 
or uncertainty, whether they occur simply or con- 
nected in syllables or words ; not only must he re- 
cognize them but pronounce them properly with Reading 
a clear correct tone 3 of voice, neither slurring nor aloud - 

1 Quintilian, Inst. Or. i. 1.24-5: 'Nequeenimmihiillud saltern 
placet, quod fieri in plurimis video, ut litterarum nomina et con- 
textum prius quam f ormas parvuli discant . Obstat hoc agnitioni 
earum non intendentibus mox animum ad ipsos ductus, dum 
antecedentem memoriam sequuntur. . . . Quapropter optime 
sicut hominum pariter et habitus et nomina edocebuntur.' 

2 Quintilian, i. 1. 28 : ' Non est aliena res, quae fere ab 
honestis negligi solet, cura bene ac velociter scribendi.' 

3 Quintilian, i. 8. 1-3 : for general instructions on reading 
aloud. Quintilian sums up his counsels thus : ' Unum est 



go SAD0LET0 

over-emphasizing each sound. Similarly he must 
Paraphrase, read fluently any writing which is put. before him, 
and be able to turn it backwards and forwards, 
this way and that. No doubt these may seem to 
be trifles * ; but they are the foundation of all that 
is to follow, and must therefore be laid down the 
more firmly, and some time must be spent over 
these exercises until they settle and take hold. 
And whatever we have said about letters, or rather 
about the elements and characters of letters, we 
Greek as wish to be understood in regard not only to Latin, 2 

We ^ as r^ 

Latin but also to Greek. 3 

for C a S p a upii Both of these languages we would have learnt by 

who is to be a pupil of whom we cherish the hope that he will 

the highest be trained to the highest form of virtue. In each 

virtue^ language we have authors of the greatest power and 

erudition, in each of them we inherit every kind 

of learning in supreme examples ; in each the 

noblest skill of the lawyer, the philosopher, the 

orator, is to be enjoyed ; and each is so clearly 

allied and bound up with the other, that a" student 

The ele- who acquires one of them without the other seems 

reUgion°to *° have got something damaged and incomplete. 

be taught Into both of these, Greek and Latin, then, the boy 

first lessons at the outset is to be plunged both by writing 

Greek in and an d rea -ding. And here at once we note a most 

igitur, quod in hac parte praecipiam : Ut omnia ista facere 

possit, intelligent.' 

1 Cf. Quintilian, Inst. Or. i. I. 21. 

2 Cf. Locke, Thoughts, pp. 138, &c, §§ 163, &c. 

3 Cf. Locke, Thoughts, p. 170, § 195. Cf. Elyot, Gov. I. x. 
&c, and for the state of Greek scholarship in England in the 
sixteenth century cf. Elyot, Gov. I. xiv, Croft's edition, vol. i, 
p. 145, note C. 



ON EDUCATION 91 

admirable practice, customary among us, together 
with his letters to instil into a boy the elements 
or simplest characters of the Christian Religion, 
for, as we have said, there can be neither goodness, 
nor learning, nor any hope of an honourable life, 
unless virtue attends and accompanies. And at 
the same time there should be put before him 
pregnant maxims of authors of high authority Pregnant 
bearing upon holiness of life and the example of £gh imS ° f 
virtue to be copied and evils to be shunned, authority, 
maxims x that the impressionable mind may well 
receive and carry with it through the rest of life. 
The practice once formed of reading and writing 
with ease, grammar 2 next follows— its name of 

1 Cf. Locke, Thoughts, p. 155, 11. 25-9 : ' And therefore 
I think it may do well, to give them something every Day to 
remember, but something still, that is in itself worth the 
remembring, and what you would never have out of Mind, 
whenever you call, or they themselves search for it.' Cf„ 
Quintilian, Inst. Or. i. 1. 35-6 : ' Et quoniam circa res 
adhuc tenues moramur, ii quoque versus, qui ad imitationem 
scribendi proponentur, non otiosas velim sententias habeant, 
sed honestum aliquid monentes. Prosequitur haec memoria in 
senectutem, et impressa animo rudi usque ad mores proficiet/ 

2 On Grammar, cf . Locke, Thoughts, pp. 145, &c, §§ 168, &c. 
Elyot, Gov. I. x : ' Grammer beinge but an introduction to 
the understanding of autors, if it be made to longe or exquisite 
to the lerner, hit in a maner mortifieth his corage : And by 
that time he cometh to the most swete and pleasant redinge 
of olde autours, the sparkes of feruent desire of lernynge is 
extincte with the burdone of grammer, lyke as a lyttel fyre 
is sone quenched with a great heape of small stickes : so that 
it can neuer come to the principall logges where it shuld 
longe bourne in a great pleasaunt fire.' 

Cf . also for a different estimate of the value of learning : 
Arnobius, adversus Gentes, Book II. 19 (Ante-Nicene Christian 



92 SADOLETO 

Grammar course derived from letters [ypdfxfjiaTa] seems to 
next— its indicate a narrow sphere, but, in fact, its range is 
sco P e — ampler : for it includes not ' letters ' only, not only 
improperly nouns and verbs, and the other parts of speech, but 
by gram- embraces and deals with the learning of poets and 
manans. prose authors in such a fashion that it seems to 
leave little in those subjects to be dealt with by 
other arts. This usurpation, indeed, should not 
in my judgement be charged against grammar, 
but rather against those who have deliberately 
made an improper use of the name grammar in 
order to display their own ability and learn- 
ing in other provinces. Many scholars, some 
Greek, some Latin, have written upon gram- 
mar, some in a compressed and chastened style, 
many more copiously — though we need hardly 
credit the legend that 3,000 books on grammar 
Apoiionius were written by Didymus. Among the Greek 
Herodianus. scholars, Apoiionius and Herodianus are the most 
approved in grammar ; among our own Donatus 

Library, vol. xix) : ' But if men either knew themselves 
thoroughly, or had the slightest knowledge of God . . . never, 
carried away by pride and arrogance, would they believe 
themselves to be deities of the first rank, and fellows of the 
Highest in his exaltation, because they had devised the 
arts of grammar, music, oratory, and geometry. For we do not 
see what is so wonderful in these arts, that because of their 
discovery the soul should be believed to be above the sun as 
well as all the stars, to surpass both in grandeur and essence 
the whole universe, of which these are parts. For what else 
do these assert that they can either declare or teach, than 
that we may learn to know the rules and differences of nouns, 
the intervals in the sounds of tones, that we may speak per- 
suasively in lawsuits, that we may measure the confines of 
the earth ? ' 



ON EDUCATION 93 

has deserved high honour, and also Servius who Donatus 
imitated him ; after them came a crowd of others, servius. 
But it is not our purpose to draw out a list of 
authors, but rather to consider by what means 
and in what measure grammar is to be taught to 
a boy ; and we must look not to the extent of the We must 
subject, but rather to the capacity of the pupil ; to°the ather 
difficult and troublesome matters in grammar capacity of 

. . . . the pupil 

which are involved m arguments rather attractive than to the 
to a subtle intellect than strictly necessary, may tSfsubject 
be set aside till a later time, when, equipped and 
strengthened by the discipline of other studies, the 
youth will be able to pass his leisure hours on 
questions of this kind. To the young man these 
questions will suggest themselves, and they will be 
all the more shrewdly discussed from the stand- 
point of some other subject ; but to load the mind Elaborate 
of a young boy with burdens of this nature would fai^SSfs- 
be folly. For what advantage can it be to him to sions un - 
be familiar with the controversy whether the parti- a boy. 
ciple is a real part of speech or should be included 
under the verb, or whether the use of a common or 
a proper noun is to be preferred, and many similar 
problems, which even to those who understand 
them are of very little service. 

I would rather have the pupil led to a clear The teach- 
plain understanding of matters which are both grammar, 
necessary and useful : let him learn to distinguish 
the various letters, recognizing that some are 
vowels, 1 those namely which of their own virtue 
make a pure sound ; and others consonants, 

1 Cf. Vives, Plan of Studies for Girls (Foster Watson), on 
' Pronunciation ' and ' Parts of Speech '. 



94 • SADOLETO 

those, namely, which are- sounded in alliance and 
Sounds. union with the vowels ; and further, among the 
consonants the semi-vowels, the sound of which 
begins with a vowel, and the others, the mutes (ex- 
plosives), in which the vowel sound merely ceases. 
Let him learn, moreover, these double sounds, which 
the Greeks call diphthongs, produced by the union 
of two vowels ; and then let him give to all these 
sounds their appropriate pronunciation. He must 
be led forward into the great wealth of language 
by such stages as will enable him to learn quite 
accurately what are commonly called the eight 
parts of speech, with the properties and, so to 
speak, the badges of each of which he must so 
make himself acquainted as to be able to distin- 
guish one from another ; as, for example, he must 
know that a noun is that which marks the nature 
and quality of a thing, fixed and stable ; that 
nouns are declined in cases ; may be divided into 
several kinds, admit changes in number, or vary 
in gender, and are distinguished in regard to form. 
Parts of That a verb is that which indicates a thine: in 
a condition of acting, or being acted upon, and is 
marked by variations of tense as a noun is by cases. 
That a participle is akin both to a noun and to 
a verb, taking its tense and movement from the 
verb, and in the rest following the noun. That 
a pronoun is that which stands in place of a noun — 
of a noun, that is to say, which is proper and indi- 
cates a certain person. Or again that adverbs have 
no value except when attached to another word, and 
that prepositions may either be used merely with 
nouns, usually taking a place or position (hence 



ON EDUCATION 95 

their names) immediately before them, or else 
in relationship with nouns and verbs, and thus 
either emphasize or lessen or change the meaning 
of the words in connexion with which they are 
employed. Once more, that conjunctions are 
words which connect the five principal parts of 
speech by joining together two or three : while 
interjections, breaking the flow and sense of a clause, 
are thrown in with a tone of voice which betrays 
some emotion, hope, joy, fear, grief, eagerness, 
wonder, and so forth. But all these matters, which 
are more suitably dealt with in the actual teaching 
of boys, it is only for us rapidly to review them, for 
we are offering an outline, not elaborating a system. 

The next matter is the inflection of the four Declension 
principal parts of speech ; three of them (noun, Ration", 
adjective, pronoun) are declined in cases, the 
other, the verb, is conjugated in tenses ; and 
these must be quite perfectly committed to 
memory. The pupil must learn to distinguish 
their several forms with the complete ease which 
comes of familiar practice ; and not less, what 
case should follow, and what precede each verb; 
for in my judgement, competence in grammar is 
best exhibited in the ability so to design and 
weave the texture of speech — with cases, gender, Grammar 
number, and tenses — that there shall be no bythe aUg t 
confusion, no want of harmony, nothing that is practical 

r t ■ at application 

not perfectly fitting and appropriate. And all of rules, 
this must be kept in mind by the teacher of The reading 
grammar both in verse and in prose- writing, of g° od 

m ctuTiiors HOT 

for we include in grammar a just 1 perception only in 

"prose 
1 Cf . Quintilian, Inst. Or. i. 4. 6-7 : ' Ne quis igitur tanquam 



96 SADOLETO 

but in verse, of the quantity of syllables, and of the proper 
quantity scansion for every kind of poem. As for an intelli- 
of 1 y lla -b les . gent mastery of verbs and nouns which have 
of scansion betrayed themselves to some common resem- 
appreciated blance, and adopted irregular and inconsistent 
with nice forms under the influence of other similar words — 
I say, such mastery is to be got not so much from 
nice and curious rules as from frequent reading of 
good authors ; and we can but say the same thing 
in regard to correct writing, which the Greeks 
call orthography. Writing is most difficult and 
burdensome for boys to acquire, if we attempt 
to teach it by means of rules and counsels, whereas 
the regular practice of reading and writing estab- 
lishes their skill. And in fact we may say without 
Grammar reservation that the whole art of grammar is built 
two^founda- U P on * wo foundations — the common practice of 
tions— the speech, and the authority 1 of learned writers in the 
practice of past : and the goal and end of the art consists in the 
the e author- d a ^ m ty t° pl an an d develop a speech in such sort, 
ityof that there be nothing discordant or ill-arranged 

writers in i n it, and to achieve this equally in prose and in 
the past, verse where moreover the quantity of the syllables 

parva fastidiat grammatices elementa, non quia magnae sit 
operae consonantes a vocalibus discernere ipsasque eas in 
semivocalium numerum mutarumque partiri, sed quia interiora 
velut sacri huius adeuntibus apparebit multa rerum subtilitas, 
quae non modo acuere ingenia puerilia sed exercere altissimam 
quoque eruditionem ac scientiam possit. An cuiuslibet 
auris est exigere litterarum sonos ? non mehercle magis quam 
nervorum.' 

1 Cf. Quintilian, Inst. Or. i. 6. 45 : ' Consuetudinem 
sermonis vocabo consensum eruditorum, sicut vivendi con- 
sensum bonorum.' 



ON EDUCATION 97 

has to be taken into account. A boy should be 
able to do this smartly and readily, without 
hesitation in the process. Since the art of grammar 1 
is the foundation, and, as it were, the very soil on 
which all the other arts are built up, so that if 
there be anything weak and faulty in the know- 
ledge of grammar the whole superstructure must 
needs be unstable, the more attentive care must 
be devoted to securing a firm grasp of grammar. 
But, when a boy has learned and mastered all 
this, one need not fear to put any task upon him : Once well 
and indeed he himself, no longer hampered by in grammar 
all these puzzling and intricate problems, which ^^^eeiy 
are the cause of no little trouble, and of no great and fear- 

IgssIv in 

pleasure in the mind of a child, will be like a horse any field. 
lately broken in, delighted to run at large in the 
wide and open fields, and to essay his own strength 
and mettle. So the studies which follow grammar 
will not be burdensome to him, but welcome and 
pleasant. 

And thus he must be led on forthwith to the The student 
exercises and rules of rhetoric, the subject-matter of JfSoric/ 65 
which is the same 2 as that of grammar, viz. the 
treatment of nouns and verbs and the whole process 
of shaping and arranging speech, but in a different 
way. For, as we have said, the grammarian's art 

1 Writing at almost exactly the same time as Sadoleto, 
Elyot says (Gov. I. v) : ' And as touchynge grammere, there 
is at this day better introductions, and more facile, than ever 
before were made, concernynge as wel greke as latine, if they 
be wisely chosen.' 

2 Cf. Wilkins, Roman Education (Cambridge Press), pp. 78 
seq. ; Locke, Thoughts, pp. 162, &c, §§ 188-9; Elyot, Gov. I. 
xi, p. 41. 

1754 jj 



98 SADOLETO 

is content to construct a speech which is consistent 
and fitly arranged in person and tense and the 
rest, or to turn a verse x correct in scansion and 
measure, and with that achievement comes to 
a stop, having no reason to go further. But 
rhetoric takes over the achievement of gram- 
mar, as something necessary to herself; though 
there is nothing distinguished in what is merely 
necessary. And so it cultivates and improves 
what it has inherited in such sort that nothing 
can provoke more fervent admiration than the 
embellishment which it provides. I should have 
Cicero has more to say about this art, since it is so wonderful 
can be said an ornament of human life, had not everything 
about been said in a supreme and final form by Cicero, 

rhetoric. r J ' 

an author whom, in obedience both to my advice 
and to your own inclination, you have constantly 
Cicero is in your hands. Cicero you must read now and 
be read ; he ever, and not only read ; you must absorb him 
absorbed anc ^ ma ke him your own by every intimate sense 
and method ; for there is no crown of learning, 
no brilliance of oratory, no magnificence of 
sentiment, no charm of word and phrase, no 
quickness of wit, no vigour of mind, which does 
not clearly, nay, with unrivalled lustre, exhibit 
itself in him, and exercise so swift and irre- 
sistible an influence, that the ear, and indeed the 
heart, of the reader is overwhelmed as though 
by a torrent of delights. But though all the gifts 
which seem to be needed for an art of this dis- 
tinguished kind are to be found in him, and united 
moreover with the greatest learning and the 
1 Contrast the views of Locke, Thoughts, p. 152, § 174. 



ON EDUCATION 99 

deepest wisdom; yet even when you have fashioned 
yourself upon his model, and taken not merely 
the colour, but the very sap and life of his 
stvle, even so you must not neglect to read the Bu * otner 

a/trtiiors 

other authors, Latin and Greek, both prose writers both Greek 
and poets. For to your years, Paullus, and even ^fa^oTo 
to a later age, it is at once a great distinction and be studied. 
a great advantage to become acquainted with the 
genius of many authors, because from many minds 
you may learn many things which may come use- 
fully to your hand in the affairs of daily life ; and 
a wide and varied reading establishes a man's Wide and 
judgement and good sense ; whereas if he keeps reading 
within the confines of a single kind, and has ^judge- 
nothing with which to compare it, he appears to ment. 
have devoted himself to it, even though it should 
be excellent, not from any preference, but by 
chance or good luck. But we wish to produce in 
the youth, of whom we have so long been speaking, 
a nature strong to choose and to judge. True, to 
judge is hardly the task of a youth ; * yet it is proper 
for youth to exhibit fresh vigour of mind, and it 
is the proof of vigour quickly to grasp what is 
offered to it, and when it has seized from a teacher 
some principle, to press forward a little in advance, 
and from a few data quickly to gather many new 
points ; and this splendid endowment is in us a 
gift of Heaven, most fervently coveted. But the 

1 Gf. Whewell, Cambridge Education (Part I, Principles 
and Recent History. Second edition, 1850, Parker), on the 
difference between Permanent and Progressive Studies ; 
especially the section (pp. 117 seq.) ' Of Mr. Lyell's Remarks 
on the English Universities '. 

H 2 



ioo SAD0LET0 

power of judgement is characterized less by rapidity 
To judge is than by weight ; it consists not so much in fore- 
andthe ' sight as in circumspection ; it should be able to 
student's select from among many things which present 
must be themselves on all sides, from every quarter, that 
enough to which is most suitable ; and this of course cannot 
provide fog done without a comparison of many things, and 
materials this power of testing and seizing the best out of 
tion. 6 e<> a multitude of possibilities is given by long corn- 
Experience merce x with the counsels of men, and the dealings 
of tSe world °^ fortune, an( i most of all by learned and various 
together readings, though of course it depends upon the 
ledge of W " bounty of Nature, which endows us with a good 
bo °j S ' J * intellect at our birth ; if that be wanting, nothing 

needed for ' ° ° 

developing avails. The decisive and dominant influence is 
ju gemen . ^^ Q £ N a -j- ure> y^ though judgement is not 

proper to youth, youth should be provided with 
these instruments, this cultivation and mental 
equipment, that when maturity arrives, it shall be 
able to judge shrewdly and truly ; and a very 
great contribution will be made to this end by an 
acquaintance with literature, a knowledge of his- 
tory, and a wide reading of the chief and most 
approved authors ; and of those of this quality 
which the havoc of time has left to us, not one is 
Pleasure as to be despised. And not only conspicuous advan- 
advantage ^ a S e > ^ u ^ the greatest pleasure also, will be gained 
to be got from wide reading. It will be a pleasure to know 
reading. and marvel over the amazing, impetuous power of 

1 Cf. Jowett, College Sermons (Murray, 1896), p. 259 : 
' A common cause of failure is ignorance of the world.' Cf. 
Locke, Thoughts, p. 199, § 140, on Wisdom ; Aristotle, Nic. 
Eth., Book VI, ch. v and foil. ; Elyot, Gov. I. xiii. 



ON EDUCATION 101 

Demosthenes; 1 whose speech is, I think, so closely Demo- 
knit in a chain of thought, that if you take away his style! 

1 Cf. Quintilian, Inst. Or. x. I. 105, on Demosthenes and 
Cicero ; and x. 1. 76-9, on Demosthenes, Aeschines, Lysias, 
and Isocrates : ' . . . princeps Demosthenes ac paene lex orandi 
fuit ; tanta vis in eo, tarn densa omnia, ita quibusdam nervis 
intenta sunt, tarn nihil otiosum, is dicendi modus, ut nee quod 
desit in eo nee quod redundet invenias. Plenior Aeschines et 
magis fusus et grandiori similis, quo minus strictus est ; carnis 
tamen plus habet, minus lacertorum. . . . Lysias subtilis atque 
elegans . . . puro tamen fonti quam magno flumini propior. 
Isocrates in diverso genere dicendi nitidus et comptus et 
palaestrae quam pugnae magis accommodatus omnes dicendi 
veneres sectatus est.' Cf. also Vives, Plan for Boys' Studies 
(trans. Foster Watson) : ' To begin with, I think the orators 
should be read — Isocrates, Demosthenes, Lysias, Aeschines, 
and part of Lucian. Then the philosophers — Plato, Aristotle, 
Xenophon, Theophrastus. Next those iron-like writers — 
Thucydides and Plutarch.' Vives' advice with regard to 
the poets may be conveniently quoted here : ' Before you 
attack the poets read Apollonius and Johannes Gram- 
maticus on the Greek Dialects ; then chiefly translate ; to 
begin with, the Attic writers are easiest, such as Aristophanes, 
and afterwards Homer, the fountain of the rest. Then, 
Euripides and Sophocles. Have a lexicon by you — say 
Suidas or Hesychius.' Vives draws up a somewhat different 
list for girls ; he says : ' The authors in whom she should be 
versed are those who at the same time cultivate right language 
and right living ; those who help to inculcate not only know- 
ledge, but living well. Of this kind are Cicero, Seneca, the 
works of Plutarch . . . some dialogues of Plato, especially 
those which concern the government of the state. Then the 
epistles of Jerome, and some works of Ambrosius and Augustine 
should be read. Further the Institutiones Principis, the 
Enchiridion, the Paraphrases (of Erasmus) and many of the 
works useful to piety, and the Utopia of Thomas More . . . 
History from Justinus, Florus, and Valerius Maximus . . . 
something (morning and night) from the New Testament . . . 



102 



SAD0LET0 



Aes chines. 
Lysias. 

Isocrates. 



a single letter the whole breaks in pieces ; so alert 
for contest that it cannot but be victorious ; so 
full and crowded that it overwhelms the listener ; 
so musical that it avails to beguile an opponent. 
How constantly he sings the praise of antiquity ; 
how well he chooses word and phrase, how often 
he is inspired by the occasion and the subject to 
encourage men to deeds of honour and glory ! 
Not without reason might the claim of the Greeks 
for eloquence be based upon the fame of this one 
prince of orators. His personal enemy and his public 
foe, Aeschines, though altogether less intense, has 
something melodious and fluent in his style. Lysias 
is fine and most apt in his selection of words. 1 The 
eloquence of Isocrates, though once much admired, 
has too many graces and artificial harmonies to 
give the effect of virility. The frequent reading of 
these authors and the rest, not only affords the 
delight which comes from acquaintance with the 
genius of great men and their differences, but exer- 
cises and increases the power of judging between 



and also the Christian poets such as Prudentius, Sidonius, 
Paulinus, Aratus, Prosper, Juvencus. . . . Nor are the heathen 
poets to be entirely omitted, particularly Lucan, Seneca the 
tragedian, and a good part of Horace.' 

1 Cf . Cicero, Orat. 226 : ' Lysiam . . . alteram paene 
Demosthenem.' ' Egregie subtilis scriptor atque elegans 
quem prope audeas oratorem perfectum dicere ' (Brutus, 9. 
35) : ' in Lysia saepe sunt etiam lacerti, sicut fieri nihil possit 
valentius ' (ibid. 16. 64) : ' ita fit ut Demosthenes certe possit 
summisse dicere, elate Lysias f ortasse non possit ' (de Opt. , 
Gen. Orat. 4. 10) (quoted by Wilkins, De Orator e, i, p. 35). 
Cf. also TritfiVKev rj Kvcriov Ae£is «X 6lv T ° X a P tev > V ^' 'I&OKp&Tovs 
fiovXtrcu, Dion. Hal. de Isoc. 3. 



ON EDUCATION 103 

different and various styles. And the same ob- Historians 
servation must be made in regard to the historians, orators to" 1 
among whom our Latin writers are masters of a be read - 
refinement and wealth not surpassed by the Greeks. 
In these writers whatever makes for the strength- 
ening of human judgement is seen far more clearly 
(than in the orators) ; for carefully to study the Uses of his- 
plans and achievements of leaders of the past, 1 s tudy. 
men who have risen to eminence in the direction 
of national affairs, is to learn from the results of 
their work what in life is to be avoided, and what 
eagerly pursued. But what am I to say about 
the poets ? You know what a multitude of them The poets 
there are in Latin and in Greek, you know how ^^. sa< 
potent is their art, not only to soothe but to rouse Their 
our spirits. The race of poets has ever been held S^mindof 
sacred, and dear to the gods : for it is not so much man - 
by the effort of human thought as by the breath 
of some inspiration from Heaven that they pour 
forth those strains which, fashioned with sound 
and measure, take our senses, and, streaming in 
upon our minds, deeply stir them in such sort that 
no resistance seems possible to their compelling 
influence. It was for this reason, of course, that 
the poets were bidden to leave 2 that ideal state 
which Plato established and perfected in his Re- Plato and 
public : it was feared that if the poets, obeying * e P oets * 
only their own fancy, were to write and spread 
abroad whatever they choose (a freedom which 
was generally granted in Greece), they might most 

1 Ci. Locke, Thoughts, pp. 159-60, §§182-4; and AppendixB, 
p. 192. 

2 Plato, Rep. iii. 398 A ; x. 595 A ; and Laws, vii. 817. 



104 SAD0LET0 

easily corrupt the character of the citizens. And 
indeed there is more power in the poet's craft than 
one might perhaps suppose, for breaking and weak- 
ening the character by the appeal of pleasure or 
the other violent emotions, or, on the other hand, 
tempering it to steadfast virtue. 

But since this seems to be the function of music 

generally, of which poetry is the principal element, 

Poetry the and even the foundation upon which the whole art 

eEment in * s built U P> we must say something about music, 

music, of jf we desire to profit by this cursory account of the 

which we ■V ■- ... _ 

must speak, liberal arts, and if we explain in advance the object 
towards which we are pressing. 

Paul. Yes. I am debating in my mind what 
place you give to the poets, and I begin to be very 
much afraid of that judgement of Plato's. And 
yet when I remember that it is at your bidding 
that I have learnt to live in intimacy with the 
poets, 1 and to hold their works constantly in my 

1 Cf. Vives, Plan for Boys' Studies (trans. Foster Watson), 
' Poets are also to be studied for the sake of the mind ; for 
they often relieve the tedium of business, and of the reading 
of unfettered speech [i. e. prose]. This alternation of verse 
and prose keeps the mind intent on studies for a longer time. 
Moreover the poets abound in unusual words and figures 
of every kind which common speech at one time or another 
requires.' Vergil, Horace, Silius Italicus, Seneca, and Lucan 
are here named. Vives says that ' Vergil holds the first place, 
and rightly so, on account of his seriousness and his ideas ', 
but goes on presently to say that, in his opinion, ' Lucan holds 
the victory over all, in the majesty of his word, and the force 
of his subjects, in the value and number of his thoughts.' 
He adds a list of ' poets of our religion ' who should be read — 
Prudentius, Prosper, Paulinus, Servilius, Juvencus and 
Aratus — and then characterizes these last-named pleasantly, 



ON EDUCATION 105 

hands, I console myself, and cannot entertain the 
fear that you will deprive me either of the delicious 
rest which they afford me from my more exacting 
studies, or of their signal aid (which I am beginning Pauiius 
to realize in my own experience) in the cultivation ledges his 
of language, and indeed of life. For so far as my ^^as* 16 
mind has any capacity for estimating the value teachers 
of the studies in which I am daily engaged, I do s tyi e and 
not know what I could read more fertile or more conduct. 
glorious than Homer, or what more sublime than Homer, 
Vergil. As I reflect on the way in which these two Vergil, 
poets have been brought into comparison and 
rivalry with each other by the zeal, not merely of 
individual admirers, but of two whole nations, 
disputing which of them ought to be awarded the 
chief title in this kind of excellence, I often make 
use of your judgement. You have always de- 
clared that while there are a thousand things in Homer and 
Homer which may be praised to the skies, there is ^Sa red 
nothing in our national poet which one could wish 
bettered ; though indeed you hold that all other 
poets have been derived like streams from Homer 
as from the fount and creative source of all 
wisdom. 1 

And as you maintain that the province of 
comedy is private life and social usage, I imagine 
that neither are you at all inclined to disown the 

' whilst they discuss matters of the highest kind, for the 
salvation of the human race, [they] are neither crude nor 
contemptible in speech.' 

1 Cf. Milton, Par. Lost, Book VII. Of the Sun : 

Hither, as to their fountain, other stars 

Repairing in their golden urns draw light. 



106 SADOLETO 

Terence. comic poets. Terence 1 is an example ; granted that 

his verse flows like a quiet stream, who could fail to 

marvel and rejoice in contemplating the purity and 

tranquillity of its waters, bearing no dregs, tainted 

by no stain, or in remarking his perfect adjustment 

to every sort of incident, in apt, clever, and 

The genius polished speech and dialogue ? In him, I think, 

taste. the genius of good taste 2 is enshrined ; for indeed 

he so carefully guards against the base and the 

sordid that sometimes he seems to give too little 

heed to the proper characteristics of his several 

Piautus— personages. Plautus perhaps allows himself a 

Section greater freedom ; and yet for enriching one's style 

a j? d we aith i n Latin, for acquiring ease of diction and wealth 

of vocabulary, what could be of greater service 

than his comedies ? Of the other poets, of whom 

there is a delightful abundance, both in Greek and 

in Latin, I shall not speak, for there is supposed 

to be a variety of kinds in poetry : which perhaps 

is not the case with the orators. But I will say 

this much in general about them all, that as in 

1 Cf. Ascham, Scholemaster (Arber's English Reprints, 
pp. 143-4) : ' For word and speech, Plautus is more plentiful!, 
and Terence more pure and proper: And for one respect, 
Terence is to be embraced above all that ever wrote in his 
kind of argument : Because it is well-known, by good record 
of learning, and that byCiceroes own witnes that some Comedies 
bearyng Terence name, were written by worthy Scipio, and 
wise Laelius, and namely Heauton: and Adelphi. And 
therefore as oft as I read these comedies, so oft doth sound 
in myne eare the pure fine talk of Rome, which was used by 
the floure of the worthiest nobilitie that ever Rome bred.' 
Cf. also Vives on Terence and Plautus. 

2 Cf. Quintilian, Inst. Or. x. 1. 99 : 'Terentii scripta . . . quae 
. . . sunt in hoc genere elegantissima.' 



ON EDUCATION 107 

each one of them there is some special excellence 
in some part of his genius, and in most of them 
many admirable qualities, this class of writer is by 
no means to be excluded from our system for the 
training of the character or from the studies lead- 
ing to that cultivation which we are seeking to 
acquire. But if the caprice of fortune and the 
lapse of time had, in its preservation of our own 
ancient authors, left us tragedy, or not deprived 
Greece of comedy, I think we might derive a 
singular pleasure from a comparative study of 
the writers of both nations. But since this boon 
has been denied us, whether through the fault of 
man or of time itself, by reading the authors in Tragedy 
one kind, and then those in the other, we may still ^ th e° me y 
try to discover what is the special quality of each influence 

-1 ■• • -i an0 - quality 

order, though perhaps tragedy is more violent of each. 
and certainly more potent to stir us by various 
emotions. 

Jac. You have put the matter neatly and with 
much justice. Indeed, I am delighted with the 
penetration and the care with which you make 
your estimate of the Greek and Latin writers 
— you afford me here an excellent illustration of 
your temper and your powers. You have relieved 
me of no small part of the task of criticizing and 
appraising the poets. Those whom you have just 
mentioned, and others like them, are, I think, not 
merely to be read by you, but to be regarded as 
familiar friends. And if I recoil from Plato's 
banishment of the poets, it is not because I do 
not believe that custom and propriety will rather 
lay down the law for the poets than the poets for 



io8 



SADOLETO 



Lawless 
and ribald 
verse- 
writers not 
to be in- 
cluded 
among 
the poets. 



False 
music, not 
to be 
admitted. 



The func- 
tion of true 
music. 



propriety. But we must- admit that Plato, in his 
enactment, strove after a very real advantage; 
and I should not wish you to include in the num- 
ber of poets those ribald and lawless verse-writers, 
who go all lengths of wantonness, and pack every 
subject with infamy. 

Paul. Certainly not, father (for I know whom 
you mean), unless sometimes they are to be read 
that the purity and wisdom of great and serious 
poets may be more clearly illustrated. But I am 
most eager to hear now what you promised to tell 
me about music. 1 

Jac. Naturally, since from your earliest child- 
hood you have by your father's direction been 
instructed in that art. 

But I shall have nothing to say of the devices 
of the common and debased art of sound, whose 
sole office consists in a pandering gratification of 
the ear, devices which consist of hardly anything 
but variation and modulation of note — for this, as 
a thing most injurious to good character, Plato 
most properly banished from his Republic; the 
Egyptians indeed never permitted it to enter their 
cities. But about true music I must speak ; about 
that music the whole function of which it is to 
bring the mind from a boorish stiffness to easy 
grace, and yet (lest it should be enervated and 
unduly relaxed) hold it firmly in the bonds of 
a steadfast goodness. Now, we said that there 
was something which seemed to have a prior claim 
on our attention, so pray take the matter thus — 
if (to take an image from the Stadium) we lead 
1 On the subject of music, cf . Locke, Thoughts, p. 174, § 197. 



ON EDUCATION 109 

youth from the starting-point into the course of 
the arts and of learning, so as to put him at the 
point where the prize of the race is set up, you 
must believe that the supreme and crowning re- 
ward, the object of our effort, that of which we 
have so often spoken already, that study which we must 
brings human nature and human reason to perfect ^hat* otaio- 
development and gives us the boon of a happy sophyisour 
life, is philosophy. When we reach philosophy, in na ° jec 
her we must make our resting-place, the home of 
all our thoughts ; for we can lack nothing there 
which makes for our welfare and our peace, or 
aids us in achieving in richest abundance the 
proper delights of a healthy mind. Now the Grammar 
very starting-point of our course is the art of pointYn 111 ^ 
grammar ; when you have stayed upon it as earl Y y ears - 
much as is needful, you must leave it in order 
to adorn and cultivate your style by the aid of 
another art or discipline of the first importance 
and the greatest distinction, the pursuit of which Rhetoric 
claims all the remainder of our lives, for without restofiife. 
it no man can well attain greatness or eminence 
among his fellows either at home in peace or abroad 
in time of war. 

This training in dignified, clear, and polished 
speech upon any subject which may be proposed, 
should, in my view, accompany a youth through- 
out every stage of his development, so that it may 
be carried along with him as he advances towards Rhetoric at 
philosophy, as a river is borne towards the sea lastls , . 

r xr j > merged m 

and at last becomes merged and identified with philosophy, 
the element into which it passes. At the same mergedTn 3 
time I would have his rhetoric flow onward in thesea - 



no SADOLETO 

other arts a stream ever enriched by the tributary 1 gifts of 
tributaries, the other arts and disciplines. There is not one 
of those arts which we call liberal, and consider 
worthy of the noble nature, which should not be 
attempted by a youth so far as is appropriate — 
I mean that as much time as may prove necessary 
must be spent upon each. This will be no difficult 
matter, and indeed they are. so interwoven and 
bound together by relationship and by a sort of 
sympathy that a student who has entered at all 
deeply into one of them makes for himself an easy 
approach into the others. The ancient Greeks dealt 
with this question more elaborately and at greater 
leisure than our own countrymen ; they perceived 
that the road to that complete and supreme wisdom 
which they believed exhibited itself in statesman- 
ship and in supremacy and pre-eminence of judge- 
ment and eloquence lay through arts of this kind. 
They appointed men as teachers at once of oratory 
Sophists— and of philosophy, whom they called Sophists, 
dvfc 6 wis- masters, as we may say, of civic wisdom, and 
dom. engaged their services at a recognized fee for 

their children. These men were always to be 
attached to them, and never leave their side ; but 
they provided that their sons should be taken as 
though for exercise to other teachers — mathema- 
ticians, musicians, astronomers, at whose hands 

1 Cf. Quintilian, Inst. Or., Prooemium, § 5 : ' Ego, cum exi- 
stimem nihil arti oratoriae alienum, sine quo fieri non posse 
oratorem f atendum est, nee ad ullius rei summam nisi praece- 
dentibus initiis perveniri, ad minora ilia, sed quae si negligas, 
non sit maioribus locus, demittere me non recusabo ' ; cf . 
also § 9 and i. io. 2-8. 



ON EDUCATION in 

they might get something which it was worth while 
to learn in addition. But they knew that boyhood, 
and still more adolescence, is impetuous and aflame, 
incapable of repose, always restless, and in move- 
ment unable to set bounds to its appetite for talk- 
ing, running, shouting, and accordingly prescribed Gymnastic 
first of all those arts which they thought the most bring the 
suitable for controlling that age, and fashioning it ^pulses of 
to a certain mould of habit — the arts, I mean, of the body 
gymnastic and music, of which the one should mind under 
bring beneath the sway of certain laws the impulses f^_! way of 
of the body, the other the impulses of the mind, securing 
both alike by nature, unbridled and unrestrained, health of 
So that in giving free expression to natural in- and*baJance 
stincts and impulses, art and training should never- of the 
theless be employed to invest those movements 
with grace, and make the body healthy, while they 
secured the balance of the mind. So far as con- 
cerns the body and its training, we have changed 
and omitted items in the ancient method. We do 
not, for example, indulge in the frequent baths Gymnastic 
and daily ablutions, to which they were so devoted : pasted 
we have long abandoned the habit of oiling the present. 
body and the art of wrestling. Most of those 
exercises * which accord with the spirit of our 
Roman training have been preserved in our cus- 
toms, such as riding, running, ball-playing, jave- 
lin-hurling, fencing, and others which promote 
endurance and bodily health, matters of choice 
rather than of teaching ; excellence in which is 
attained not by the commands of a master, but by 
a youth's own temper and self-discipline. There 
1 Cf. Locke, Thoughts, pp. 175-6, §§ 198-9. 



ii2 SADOLETO 

remains alone that accomplishment in bodily move- 
Dancing, ment * common to gymnastic and music ; the art 

common to . „ .. . r .• 

gymnastic of dancing 2 — the art, that is, of springing to the 
and music. sounc [ f stringed or wind instruments. Here, 
however, music is of the greater importance, and 
so (since we have said enough about gymnastic) 
let us now turn to the task of painting it upon 
the minds of the young in the colours which 
antiquity has approved. 

Paul. I am afraid that all I have learnt of music 
is of a kind which may not win your approval ; 
though I have for some time almost wholly given 
up this study, and, as you may see, take less and 
less pleasure in it every day, devoting myself more 
readily to the nobler and more serious music which 
I find in poetry, a music which lifts my soul almost 
to heaven on the rhythmical and harmonious 
current of its majestic thoughts. 

Jac. I will not deny, Paullus, that it has been quite 
proper and necessary for you to learn all you have 
acquired about raising and again lowering sounds 
and tones (as you call them), about true and false 
notes, the value of a full tone and of a semi-tone, 
what is meant by an octave and a fifth, the scale, 
the changes of key, the laws of harmony, and such 
subjects of the music school. But to learn these 
things is not difficult : what we have to see to is 
that an art such as this, without doubt singularly 

1 Plato, Rep. hi. 412 : ' He who mingles music with Gym- 
nastic in the fairest proportions, and best attempers them to 
the soul, may be rightly called the true musician and harmonist 
in a far higher sense than the tuner of the strings.' 

2 Cf. Locke, Thoughts, p. 174, § 196. 



ON EDUCATION 113 

sympathetic to our nature, is not allowed, by a 

wrong use, to become itself a corrupting influence T ^ eff ? ct 

. •, -, , t^ , • 1 OI rhythm 

upon our mind and character. For nothing has on the mind. 

a more controlling and arresting effect on the mind 

than rhythm, 1 nothing is more penetrating, more 

potent to prescribe the rule and law by which it 

is to be moved and governed. This is often shown 

in our silent reading of the poets and orators, in 

both of whom rhythm and cadence, measure and 

pause, are to be found, though in the poets all this 

is much more explicit. But as we read them we 

are conscious that we are deeply moved, we feel 

ourselves swayed and borne along in the sweep of 

that rhythmic movement. And if these words are Music and 

set to appropriate and fitting music for the voice, combined. 

scarce any mind can resist their influence, but 

must surrender and suffer itself to be led away in 

captivity. What follows ? The more force and 

vigour this art of music has, the more carefully 

ought we to take precaution (though we never 

do) that no one be permitted at his own whim 

to introduce change and variations in musical Tradition 

method, but that all should be strictly compelled be respected. 

to abide by the established and recognized tra- innovations 

J ° to be closely 

dition. At Sparta of old, indeed, they observed scrutinized, 
this rule so stringently that when Timotheus, the 
famous lutist, who was giving a public perform- 
ance before a large audience at Sparta, added a 
single chord on his lute, he was condemned to 
death on the charge of damaging the authority 

1 Plato, Rep. in. 400 : ' There is no difficulty in seeing that 
grace or the absence of grace is an effect of good or bad 
rhythm ' (Jowett). 

1754 t 



ii4 SADOLETO 

of the laws and undermining the discipline of 
youth. 1 And if we are to inquire what system is 
to be maintained in music, I am of opinion that we 
should bear all the following principles in mind : 
Words, since a chorus consists of three elements, words, 

rhythm, 

and tune— rhythm (by this I mean time), and tune, it is 
eminent evident that the words are far the most important 2 
importance f the three, as being the very basis and foundation 

of the words. ' T • 

ol the rest ; they have no mean influence upon 
the mind, whether to persuade or to restrain : 
when disposed in conformity with time and rhythm 
they have a much more penetrating force ; while 
if arranged also in a musical setting they take 
possession of the inner man and all his feelings. 

Any community, then, which undertakes the 
general supervision of these matters, and any 
private citizen who is concerned about bringing 
up a son properly and decently, must needs see 
Words and to it that this art be learnt in such fashion as that 
ground- its groundwork and subject-matter (I mean the 
words and ideas expressed) should be of a kind 
which will tend most surely to the maintenance 
and nurture of good character. This will be fitly 

1 Cic. Leg. ii. 15. 39 ; Quint. Inst. Or. ii. 3. 3 ; Macr. S. v. 32. 

2 Cf . Plato, Rep. hi. 399-400 : ' Next in order to harmonies, 
rhythm will naturally follow, and this should be subject to the 
same rules, for we ought not to seek out complex systems of 
metre, or metres of every kind, but rather to discover what 
rhythms are the expressions of a courageous and harmonious 
life ; and when we have found them, we shall adapt the foot 
and the melody to words having a like spirit, not the words to 
the foot and melody ; ' and, a little further on, ' Our principle 
is that rhythm and harmony are regulated by the words, 
and not the words by them '. 



work of 
music. 



ON EDUCATION 115 

done, if the theme be either the praise of emi- 
nent men and their words and sayings regard- 
ing virtue, or sacred matters, and all utterances 
concerning God Himself which unite the com- 
memoration of His goodness, kindness, and mercy 
with our own greatest advantage and profit. 

Cato, in his Origines, tells us that after banquets 
themes of the first kind were adopted by the an- 
cient Romans : the praise of their brave men and 
their eminent services to the state were chanted 
to the music of the pipe. The poets sometimes 
take the other subj ect : for instance, in Virgil 
Iopas 1 sings of sun and moon and heavenly bodies. 
In our day they have chosen more high and holy 
themes, celebrating in sacred song the mysteries 
of divine power and grace towards us. This indeed 
has but lately been done, with the applause of all 
the Muses, by Actius Sincerus, a man distinguished 
in his poetic powers by the union of genius and 
eloquence with Christian piety. 

With this foundation, firmly laid and cemented, Melody to 
we must next attempt melody which must by no S idered 
means be loose, languid, or feeble, if it is to provide j/ tert1 ^ 
a meet accompaniment to the gravity of the subj ect- been chosen. 
matter. Its sweetness must not lack restraint and 
virility, its measure must be dignified. Human 
nature itself and our own expectations are outraged 
if, when a man takes upon himself the recital of 
Mutius Scaeva's noble deed, he feels constrained to 
roll it out in the quick iambic measure. For that The mea- 

, -, , j ., sure must be 

measure is proper to haste and eagerness, excite- appropriate 
ment and anger, not to steadfast and unconquered to J he t 
1 ' Crinitus Iopas ', A en. i. 740. matter. 

I 2 



n6 



SADOLETO 



The voice 
of the 
singer or 
reciter. 



valour. Nor again must -the self-sacrifice of the 
Decii, their advance into the midst of their foes, 
when to save their country they hurled themselves 
upon certain death, be fettered by the form of 
soft elegiacs or flowing dithyrambics. It demands 
a heroic strain, that the metre may match the 
greatness of the theme. Furthermore, if the matter 
and metre are in harmony, and both maintain a 
firm and manly character, the voice must not be 
broken and womanish. So we shall have a concord 
not only useful for the training of mind and char- 
acter, but, in my judgement, far more pleasant and 
agreeable. For it will not, like some over-refined * 
essence, quickly cloy the appetite and alienate the 
senses by disgust; but seasoning sweetness with 
severity will hold them longer ; and gently penetrat- 
ing the youthful mind will be apt to establish and 
maintain there that noble compact between virtue 
and pleasure which I have called the mainspring 
of character. Such is the music, 2 Paullus, which 
I urge you and all young people who love virtue, 
eagerly to follow and firmly to embrace — though 
you indeed forestall my advice by your own choice. 
What correctness or beauty can the music which 
is now in vogue possess ? It has scarcely any real 
scarceiyany and stable foundation in word or thought. If it 
in word or should have for its subject a maxim or proverb, it 
thought. would obscure and hamper the sense and meaning 3 

1 Cf. Cicero, de Orat. iii. 26. 103 : ' Suavitatem habeat 
orator austeram et solidam, non dulcem et decoctam.' 

2 Cf. Elyot, Gov. I. vii. passim, and Note a on p. 214 of 
Croft's edition. 

3 Cf. Quintilian, Inst. Or. xi. 3. 20 (on the care which the 
orator must give to his voice) : ' Praeterea ut sint fauces 



The noble 
compact 
between 
virtue and 
pleasure. 



The music 
of our own 
time has 



ON EDUCATION 117 

by abruptly cutting and jerking the sounds in the 
throat — as though music 1 were designed not to 
soothe and control the spirit, but merely to afford 
a base pleasure to the ears, mimicking the cries of 
birds and beasts, which we should be sorry to 
resemble. This is to turn soul into body, and 
weaken self-control. From this Plato most pro- 
perly shrank in horror, and refused a place in his 
ideal state for such music as this. For when 
flaccid, 2 feeble, sensual ideas are rendered in similar 
music, in kindred modulations of the voice, weakly 
yielding to lust, languishing in grief, or rushing in 
frenzied agitation towards the sudden passions of a 
disordered mind, what ruin to virtue, what wreck- 
age of character, do you suppose, must ensue ? 

It was thus, of course, that Greece wrought the Degeneracy 
ruin of her ancient and honourable tradition, by j^ 6 music 
the constant visiting of theatres and theatrical wrought 

° the general 

displays, and specially by introducing into them ruin of 
choruses which appealed to the ear by their charm reece " 
and to the mind by a variety of influences. From Tne eyii 
Greece this bane was carried across to Rome, and Greece to 

Rome, 
integrae, id est molles ac leves, quarum vitio frangitur et 

obscuratur et exasperatur et scinditur vox.' 

1 Cf. Quintilian, Inst. Or. ii. 3. 20. 

2 Cf. Quintilian, i. 10. 31 : ' Apertius tamen profitendum 
puto, non hanc [musicam] a me praecipi, quae nunc in scaenis 
effeminata et impudicis modis fracta non ex parte minima, 
si quid in nobis virilis roboris manebat, excidit, sed qua laudes 
fortium canebantur, quaque ipsi fortes canebant.' Cf. Plato, 
Rep. Book III, pp. 398-9, where he rejects the Lydian 
and Ionian modes as being enervating and degrading, and 
prefers the Dorian and Phrygian modes as being consonant 
with an attitude of mind both tranquil and courageous in 
time of adversity and prosperity alike. 



n8 SADOLETO 

unstrung and snapped the sinews of her pristine 

dignity. In our own day, what good is to be 

expected from music of this kind it is easy to guess 

when we observe the character of those who teach 

and profess it. Such music is not worthy of a free 

Ancient man, but that rather which we displayed earlier, 

wiSSodernthe music which by its noble feeling, its stately 

music measure, its manly tone, kindles the mind to a 

passion for virtue. If to this be added steps * and 

movements of the body adapted to the melody 

and the rhythm, we have the origin of dance 2 and 

Dance and even of the ballet, the enjoyment of which we do 

DctHGX UlciV t i i r i • i t i • 

be allowed not absolutely forbid to the young, though it 
tfo^arfd " should be sparingly and discreetly permitted. For 
relaxation they will be of use in refreshing the mind and 

for youth 

after toil, restoring it after the .toil and intense application 
of study. But the ballets must be quickly dis- 
missed and dance abandoned — for it quickly be- 
But they comes absurd, and cannot be reconciled in any 

bTSven 11 wa y or ^ n ^ me or pl ace with manly dignity or grave 
up, and so movements — and gradually we must abandon 
singing, singing and the modulation of the voice, for our- 
matifre the se l yes I mean > no "t that we may not listen to others, 
may listen For the pleasure of listening is naturally granted 

1 Cf. Vives, Instruction of a Christian Woman (trans. Richard 
Hyrde ; see Foster Watson, Vives) . Vives condemns dancing 
for girls, but says : ' I will make no mention here of the old 
use of dancing which both Plato and many of the Stoic 
philosophers said was wholesome for honest men's sons, and 
Cicero and Quintilian called necessary for an Orator, which 
was nothing but a certain informing of gesture, and moving 
of the body, to set and move all in comely order, which craft 
now, as many others be, is clean out of use.' 

2 On Dancing, cf. Elyot, Gov. I. xix, &c, pp. 85 seq. 



ON EDUCATION 119 

to every period of life — to advanced and even to to the per- 
extreme age, provided it be indulged with modera- mSSms.° 
tion, and sought without undue eagerness. 

Rhythmic passages, thoughts set in numbers of To hear 
that kind which we have approved, whether in ^lief from 
reading the poets or sometimes in rendering songs, the cares 
we desire as the accompaniment of all our life, for responsi- 
they afford at once a pleasant and an appropriate ^eii as^from 
relaxation from studies often too exacting, and the labour 
from the burden of public responsibility. 

Paul. I have quite clearly understood, my father, 
both what you adopt and approve in music, and 
what you reject : I shall take pains, therefore, to 
obey both you and Truth herself in both respects. 

Jac. Surely we must not forget to summon to 
the company of the other disciplines, Arithmetic, 1 Arithmetic 
which is indeed the art and science of number, the jjj.^* 116 
use of which is so necessary to us that without disciplines. 
her we could not know how many fingers we have 
on our hands, or reckon the objects upon which we 
gaze with our eyes — the ridiculous position in 
which the ancients must have found themselves 
before the time of Palamedes, who is credited with 
the invention of counting at Troy. For at that 

1 Cf. Plato, Laws, vii. 818-22, on arithmetic, geometry, 
and astronomy ; and Rep. vii. 522 : ' Then Palamedes, 
whenever he appears in tragedy, proves Agamemnon ridicu- 
lously unfit to be a general. Did you never remark how he 
declares that he had invented number, and had numbered 
the ships and set in array the ranks of the army at Troy ; 
which implies that they had never been numbered before, 
and Agamemnon must be supposed literally to have been 
incapable of counting his own feet — how could he if he was 
ignorant of number ? ' 



120 SAD0LET0 

time neither Agamemnon, the leader of that vast 

host, nor Nestor, who (so Homer tells us) excelled 

in wisdom, nor even Ulysses, the shrewdest of 

mortals, could have told the number of the ships 

with which they put in at Troy. But putting 

aside these legends, the knowledge and practice of 

The ele- this art must be given to our youths, so far as 

oTarith- is advisable ; the elements at any rate must be 

metic must aC n mr ed, and we must make some little way in the 

be acquired ^ J 

for practi- subject, so as to understand the diverse properties 
some S at- an °$ numbers, 1 the nature of the even and the odd, 
tempt must their manifold and various interconnexions, their 

be made to 

get the quite startling correspondences, subsequent num- 
number? ^ ers reproducing after fixed intervals the charac- 
teristic features of those that preceded them. And 
other matters of the same order, which afford 
the noble pleasure attending the acquisition of a 
Arithmetic generous art, and are in high degree suitable for 
art— dis*- 118 sharpening and quickening the mind. Moreover, 
engaging they withdraw the mind from external and tangible 

the mmd . . ~ 

from things, and set it upon a better use of itself, so 

things^nd "that, relying on its own strength and not distracted 
setting it by the force of sensible objects, it may hold more 

upon the 

contempia- consistently to the contemplation of external and 
eternal unchanging truth. For this art possesses this gift 
truth. in a pre-eminent degree ; since the nature or 
quality of numbers is of such a sort that it is never 
involved in any, the slightest, traffic with tran- 
sient and unstable things ; it is pure and simple, 
like a cloistered maiden, touched not by the eyes 
and hands, but only by the minds of her courtiers. 
It is a service of a lower kind for themselves and 
1 Cf. Locke, Thoughts, pp. 157-8, §§ 179-80. 



ON EDUCATION 121 

for their lives which they derive from this art, who 
turn to profit that part of it which is concerned 
with subtracting and adding sums, and which we 
call the reasoning part ; they seek from it an 
advantage not to their character but to their coffers Commercial 
and strong boxes. 1 Even if it is applied to such arithmetic. 
ends, its aid is not properly sought for any other 
purpose than that both in war and peace, at home 
and abroad, the interests of the state may be well 
managed, and the private affairs of citizens may 
be handled in orderly fashion — and none of these 
objects can be properly secured without this study. 
And money-making is always even a sordid thing 
to generous minds ; whereas the straight steering of 
public and private affairs is proper to a wise man. 
But we may go further : all those other arts 
which we call ' mathematical ' derive their prin- The other 
ciples from this, and could not do their work ticai'artsT 
without it. What would music be without the music > 

geometry, 

idea of number ? or geometry ? 2 Or what can astrology, 
astrology, that searches the heavens and their con- 
stellations, do without it ? All these arts receive 

1 Cf. Plato, Rep. vii. 5 2 5 : ' We must endeavour to persuade 
those who are to be the principal men of our State to go and 
learn arithmetic, not as amateurs, but they must carry on 
the study until they see the nature of numbers with the mind 
only ; nor again, like merchants or retail-traders, with a view 
to buying or selling, but for the sake of their military use, 
and of the soul herself ; and because this will be the easiest 
way for her to pass from becoming to truth and being/ 

2 Cic. Tusc. Disp. i. 2. 5 : 'In summo apud illos (Graecos) 
honore geometria fuit, itaque nihil mathematicis inlustrius : at 
nos metiendi ratiocinandique utilitate huius artis terminavimus 
modum.' 



122 SADOLETO 

from arithmetic number, as it were a spirit, and 
then clothe it themselves, adding to it something, 
like a body of their own. Thus, for instance, to 
unity, than which there is nothing in Nature 
more simple, more limited, or more independent 
of everything else, geometry adds place and posi- 
tion, music sound, astrology, even visibility and 
movement. 

The praise As for geometry, 1 in what words shall we praise 

o geome ry. .^ p it is a discipline, the influence of which 
spreads even more widely, and makes itself deeply 
felt in all the arts and enterprises of man. It is 

its scope the science of the point, the line, the surface, the 
figure, both in the plane and in the solid ; it rests 
upon a foundation of the most trustworthy reasons ; 
nowhere is it uncertain ; it never slips ; while it 
affords wonderful pleasure to the mind in the con- 
templation of truth ; and for every kind of cir- 
cumstance it is not only apt and appropriate, but, 
above all others, necessary. For that one science 
which embraces all things that are achieved by the 

and its wit and labour of men, balance and arrangements 
!|ii ' ' and the proportionate adjustment of one thing 
with another — that science is geometry. The roofs 
and walls of our houses, the noble and imposing 
monuments of human craft which we still see in the 
ancient temples, theatres, and vaults of Rome, 
would not stand, and could not move us to the 
great admiration which we feel for them, had they 
not been wrought out by the measurement of geo- 
metry. Think of our columns and porticoes ! Think 

1 Cf. Plato, Laws, vii. 819 seq. ; Locke, Thoughts, p. 158, 
§181. 



uses. 



ON EDUCATION 123 

of the instruments and engines of warfare ! Think of 
the arts of moulding and painting, of striking forms 
out of bronze or marble, arts ennobled of old by 
men of great genius and granted, indeed, only to 
honourable minds ! Think of the whole art of 
navigation itself, the knowledge which we derive 
from geography * of locality, of coastlines, of 
territories, of shores ! or again the measurement 
of estates, the tracing the courses of rivers I 
Finally, not to attempt a complete catalogue, 
everything which appeals to the eye by its beauty 
and splendour, everything which comes home to 
the use of life by its convenience or its necessity, 
belongs to this art, and is, indeed, the discovery 
of this faculty. But why detail the works of 
human hands ? The heavenly 2 bodies above our 
heads revolving in their courses, whose nature 
and function no human words can express or 
explain — or again in our lower and changing 
world, the connected harmony of light and heavy, 
the poise achieved by finely adjusted forces, by 
which diverse bodies, opposed in nature to each 
other, and yet so linked and bound together, that 
though they strive mightily to avoid each other, 
are yet held in a single system 3 — why, I say, 

1 Cf. Locke, Thoughts, p. 159, § 181. 

2 Cf. Locke, Thoughts, pp. 157-8, § 180 : ' Which when he 
can readily do, he may then be entered in the Celestial ; and 
there going over all the Circles again, with a more particular 
Observation of the Ecliptick or Zodiack, to fix them all very 
clearly and distinctly in his Mind, he may be taught the Figure 
and Position of the several Constellations, which may be 
showed him first upon the Globe, and then in the Heavens.' 

3 Cf. Quintilian, 7ws£. Or.i. 10.46 seq. : 'Quid? quodseeadem 



124 SADOLETO 

The divine should we speak of the works of man, when all 
geometry, these things are wrought out by the art— the divine 
art — of geometry ? The force and range of this 
art were understood by Archimedes, who has the 
reputation of excelling all others in his mastery 
of it. He was wont to declare that, in his belief, 
if a second universe were discovered, he could 
connect and attach it to this : and certainly he 
seemed to be speaking not rashly or vainly nor 
making any idle boast. For his skill in geometry 
gave him a profound understanding of the prin- 
ciples of weight and measurement by which all 
bodies are governed and directed, and he knew 
that these principles were applicable not merely 
to the convenience and service of our daily life, 
but also to the movement and propulsion of the 
vastest bodies. When his native city was besieged, 
this great man stood forth as its saviour, by bring- 
ing his knowledge of geometry and of weight to 
her aid against the strength of a Roman army 
and the courage of a very great general. And yet 
he was blamed for drawing into the arena of 
common affairs, and so violently dishonouring, 
an art which owes its dignity mainly to its remote- 
ness from the world of sense and sight and its 
dependence upon mind and intelligence. For 
among those learned men who still frequented the 
ruins of the Academy, where of old such themes 
were more liberally treated, the quality of this 

geometria tollit ad rationem usque mundi ? in qua, cum 
siderum certos constitutosque cursus numeris docet, discimus 
nihil esse inordinatum atque fortuitum : quod ipsum non 
nunquam pertinere ad oratorem potest.' 



ON EDUCATION 125 

art was esteemed finer and more subtle, and a result 
in the cultivation and equipment of natural gifts 
of intellect was sought from it, all the more fruitful 
because not exposed to the admiration of vulgar 
eyes ; it consisted in the contemplation x of truth 
itself, and in those high speculations which the 
Greeks call ' theorems ', visions springing and 
drawn from each other in an endless series and 
revealing themselves so subtly and so clearly, 
that the mind, content with the sweetness of Mystical 
learning, seeks for nothing more, and is loath to ingeometri- 
suffer this serene delight to be interrupted by the cal truth - 
rough clamour of popular applause. 

Paul. Great heavens, do you bid me learn so Pauiius is 
many great subjects, especially as I am pressing the number 
on towards philosophy — subjects any one of of 1 .? 1 ?if c * s 

r r j j j which he is 

which might well fill the lifetime of one man ? to learn. 
Yet I agree with you, and admit that all these 
matters ought to be learnt (if indeed that be 
possible) — and I am of course eager for the task ; 
but I constantly hear many lamenting the short- 
ness of human life and making much in their 
speech of the difficulty and the number of arts of 
this kind, as if to say that the goal can never be 
reached. Thus they have on their lips that saying 
of Theophrastus, who when dying is said to have 
found fault with Nature for granting to some of 
the beasts and birds, to which such a gift could 
count for nothing, long spaces of life, while she 

1 Plato, Rep. vii. 527 : ' The knowledge at which geometry 
aims is knowledge of the eternal, and not of aught perishing 
and transient . . . Geometry will draw the soul towards truth, 
and create the spirit of philosophy.' 



126 SADOLETO 

chooses to put out the light of man, born for know- 
ledge and contemplation, when he has scarcely 
begun to make good use of his mind and reason. 
Now I should very much like, if you please, to 
hear what you think about the opinion of these 
What aid men, and to learn what aid to the understanding 
under- °^ phil° s °phy ( an d "that is our main quest) you 
standing of find in these arts which you have named. 
£to°be P got Jac. The very greatest aid, Paullus, if I may 
these arts ? re Pty to your second question first — manifold and 
various aid, useful and suited to many purposes. 
All knowledge or learning is liberal, but those 
Ail the arts arts of which we have so long been speaking are, 
bers^f one as it were, members of that one great body, 1 the 
whi Y his °kj ec t of our quest, philosophy itself; for every 
philosophy process of handling and learning facts of nature — 
of whatever kind they may be — and all that is 
involved and implied in the contemplation of 
nature — all this falls within the province of philo- 
sophy, and is illuminated by its light, as by a 
ray of truth. Moreover, there are in philosophy 
certain problems which are held to excel all others 
in importance and dignity — such, for instance, 
as the knowledge of the highest good, and of the 
ultimate cause which makes all other things to 
be what they are, and other questions kindred and 
related to that supreme and master problem : to 
the understanding of which, since they have their 

1 Cf . Plato, Rep. vii. 531 : ' Now when all these studies reach 
the point of intercommunion and connection with one another, 
and come to be considered in their mutual affinities, then, 
I think, but not till then, will the pursuit of them have a value 
for our objects ; otherwise there is no profit in them.' 



ON EDUCATION 127 

place in the highest region of the mind's activity, We climb 
we climb, as it were, by grades and stages through 3 6p 
through studies and disciplines of this kind. And "^ny <* isci - 

* phnes to 

from these contributory studies themselves much the highest 
is gained that supports and uplifts the mind, th^mind's 
Without this aid the mind must almost of necessity activity. 
move with tottering and uncertain steps to discover 
the noble and useful service of these arts in that 
very realm (of pure philosophy) ; nay, a supreme 
service, for these summon the mind from the 
senses, and teach it to consider and investigate, 
in abstract meditation free from the disturbance 
of the bodily senses, those things which in them- 
selves deserve such consideration. And this is 
indeed the most distinctive and proper business 
of the philosopher. The essential qualities of 
things — what they truly are in themselves — 
Nature has either hidden from our gaze, or when 
she has thrust them upon us in the commerce of 
our daily life, she has yet woven about them so 
tangled a web of mystery that, though they affect 
our hearing, our sight, and our other senses, they 
cast a cloud of obscurity over the mind in its 
efforts to apprehend what each really is, and so 
it were no light task, no trifling labour, for the 
mind to make its way unaided through the throng 
and press of sensible objects and to discover 
what each thing is in itself — I mean, its essence, 
always the same, and subject to no variation by 
time or any other cause of change. 1 And this 

1 Cf . Plato, Rep. x. 602 : ' And the arts of measuring and 
numbering and weighing come to the rescue of the human 
understanding — there is the beauty of them — and the apparent 



128 SADOLETO 

The several could by no means be achieved, unless we were 
butetofree a ble to control and indeed to banish the senses, 
the mind anc [ to enforce silence upon those creatures of 

from the . . r 

dominion imagination which, springing from our sense- 
things^and impressions of external things, make their way 
lift it to i n t the mind and rudely disturb its contempla- 

the region J r 

of truth, tion. And, indeed, in so far as each art teaches 
the mind to manage itself in this way, to escape 
as far as possible from the dominion of the senses, 
and to retire into itself, it is specially useful and 
suitable as an introduction to philosophy ; as may 
be seen most clearly in the disciplines of numbering 
and measuring ; for they set before the mind for 
its treatment and consideration those things which 
are untouched by movement or sense or time or 
change or inconsistency or conflicting impulses, and 
stand independent and maintain within them- 
selves their own unmistakable eternal constancy 
and truth. And as this is a quality natural to 
philosophy, these arts and sciences of mathe- 
matics (whether because they train the mind to 
Some mathe- the habit of independent and solitary specula- 
matics must tion, trusting to and established upon its native 

be acquired ° r 

by students strength, or because they are themselves in a 
sophy 1 . " certain sense parts and members of philosophy) 
must be acquired, at any rate in some measure, 
by those who aim at philosophy, and are not to 
be passed by without due tribute paid. For if 
the vastness of these subjects alarms some students 
and makes them ready to despair of themselves, 

greater or less, or more or heavier, no longer have the mastery 
over us, but give way before calculation and measure and 
weight '. 






ON EDUCATION 129 

the fault is not to be attributed to the art, or the 
difficulty of learning, but rather to weakness and 
slackness of mind. Not that you should maintain 
that in the arts themselves there is no difficulty, 
no burdensomeness (if I may so speak, for the 
facts cannot be reconciled with the word), but 
rather that in the things of the mind there is a Vulgar, 
certain subtlety, a certain abstract quality which sluggish 
it is idle to put before the vulgar and cannot be J 1 "^ * re 

r ° baffled by 

made clear to dull and sluggish minds, but which the subtlety 
does not escape the keen search of acute and ofthemind. 
vigorous intellects, a quality into which, with the 
aid of a little guidance, a slight indication, these 
make their way so easily and so rapidly, that 
they would appear not to be wandering through 
strange and unfamiliar territory, but exercising 
their proper sway in their own country. For But an 
when the mind is well established and firmly set ^eif-trahied 
by nature in men, its power is very great — so mind is 

.. ., 1-1 overcome 

great that it is neither overcome by the number neither by 

of things which it perceives and grasps, nor tude^ofby 

burdened by the vast magnitude of some, nor tne number 

bewildered by the infinitesimal minuteness of subjects 

others. Just as our eyes (if nature has given us iJ^^J^ 011 

strong and clear eyes) with smooth and easy fronted. 

movement towards whatever quarter they turn, 

quickly and without effort embrace whatever they 

will ; so the mind, if it is by nature well-planted 

and equipped for grasping every kind of subject 

towards which it directs itself, is clear of vision. 

For consider, if it were difficult to equip oneself 

so completely with the knowledge and resources Learned 

l 1 1 r 1 men °* °i" 

of many arts, how could so many learned men have time. 

1754 K 



Leontini. 



130 SADOLETO 

come forth long ago from the schools of Greece, 
and made the claim (splendid and proud as it was 
thought at the time) that they were prepared 
to give an instant reply to every inquirer who 
Gorgias of should consult them on any subj ect whatsoever ? 
Gorgias 1 of Leontini was the first, we learn, to 
do this ; and for this so rich a meed of praise was 
offered from the whole of Greece, that to him alone 

1 Cf. Cicero, de Or at. i. 102-3 : ' Quid ? mihi vos nunc ' 
inquit Crassus 'tanquam alicui Graeculo otioso et loquaci 
et fortasse docto atque erudito quaestiunculam, de qua 
meo arbitratu loquar, ponitis ? Quando enim me ista 
curasse aut cogitasse arbitramini et non semper inrisisse 
potius eorum hominum impudentiam, qui cum in schola 
adsedissent, ex magna hominum frequentia, dicere iuberent, 
si quis quid quaereret ? Quod primum ferunt Leontinum 
fecisse Gorgiam, qui permagnum quiddam suscipere ac 
profited videbatur, cum se ad omnia, de quibus quisque 
audire vellet, esse paratum denuntiaret ; postea vero volgo 
hoc facere coeperunt hodieque faciunt, ut nulla sit res neque 
tanta neque tarn improvisa, neque tarn nova, de qua se non 
omnia, quae did possunt, profiteantur esse dicturos.' 

See also Sandys, Orator, Introd., p. vii, note : iXdovros Se 

Topycov eis Tas A0rjva<s, €7reSeifaTO ckcc \6yov /cat euSo/a/A^cre 7rdw, 
tocrre rjvLKO. iTreSetKWTO Xoyov 6 T. ioprr]V airpaKTOv Ittolovv 'AOrjvaioL, 
/cat Aa/^7ra8as tows Xoyows avrov aivo/Aacrav. Proleg. ad HerMOg. 

iv. 15, Walz. 

Cicero, de Inven. i. 5, § 7 : ' Materiam artis earn dicimus, in 
qua omnis ars, et ea f acultas, quae conficitur ex arte, versatur. 
Ut medicinae materiam morbos ac volnera, quod in his omnis 
medicina versatur, item quibus in rebus versatur ars et 
f acultas oratoria, eas res materiam artis rhetoricae nominamus. 
Has autem res alii plures, alii pauciores existimarunt : nam 
Gorgias Leontinus, antiquissimus fere rhetor, omnibus de 
rebus oratorem optime posse dicere existimavit . . .' 

Cf. also de Finibus, ii. 1 : ' Primus est ausus Leontinus 
Gorgias in conventu poscere quaestionem, id est iubere dicere, 



ON EDUCATION 131 

of all others, not a gilded, but a golden 1 statue 
was set up at Delphi. Yet this claim, with its 
novel pretensions, admired at first, was afterwards 
cheapened by an undistinguished crowd of followers 
and imitators : while others, by a display of their 
ability and their interests, secured their position 
within the province of what we call liberal arts 
and of pure letters. 

But when Hippias 2 at the Olympic games, Hippias. 
which attracted the greatest concourse of folk 
from every part of Greece, not content with declar- 

qua de re quis vellet audire : audax negotium, dicerem 
impudens, nisi hoc institutum postea translatum ad philo- 
sophos nostros esset ; sed et ilium, quern nominavi, et ceteros 
sophistas, ut e Platone intelligi potest, lusos videmus a Socrate.' 
Cf. also Cic. Tusc. Disp. i. 4. 7 : ' Ponere iubebam de quo 
quis audire vellet ; ad id aut sedens aut ambulans disputabam.' 

1 Cic. de Orat. iii. 129 : ' Hie [Gorgias] in illo ipso Platonis 
libro de omni re, quaecunque in disceptationem quaestionem- 
que vocetur, se copiosissime dicturum esse profitetur ; isque 
princeps ex omnibus ausus est in conventu poscere qua de 
re quisque vellet audire; cui tantus honos habitus est a 
Graecia, soli ut ex omnibus Delphis non inaurata statua, 
sed aurea statueretur.' 

2 See Sandys, op. cit., p. ix ; and Cic. de Orat. iii. 126 : ' Illos 
veteres doctores auctoresque dicendi nullum genus disputatio- 
nis a se alienum putasse accepimus, semperque esse in omni 
orationis ratione versatos; ex quibus Elius Hippias, cum 
Olympiam venisset maxima ilia quinquennali celebritate 
ludorum, gloriatus est cuncta paene audiente Graecia nihil 
esse ulla in arte rerum omnium quod ipse nesciret ; nee solum 
has artes, quibus liberales doctrinae at que ingenuae contine- 
rentur, geometriam, musicam, litterarum cognitionem et 
poetarum atque ilia, quae de naturis rerum, quae de hominum 
moribus, quae de rebus publicis dicerentur, sed anulum quem 
haberet, pallium quo amictus, soccos quibus indutus esset, [se] 
sua manu confecisse.' 

K 2 



132 SADOLETO 

ing that he had skill in all the generous disciplines, 

undertook to be a guide and master to any one, 

and vaunted that he had himself fashioned and 

made the ring which he had on his finger, the shoes 

he wore, and the cloak with which he was covered, 

did he not prove that there is no art or skill which 

can escape the quick wit of man ? Granted that 

he was an idle boaster, and that the others who 

made the same pretence are not to be suffered — 

I call you back to those who without any ostenta- 

tion have yet attained the highest power, the glory 

of complete of complete wisdom. Is there anything, do you 

Sowiedge d su PP ose ' i n ^ ne rea -l m of nature or in the sphere 

—Plato, of any art which escaped the vast range and 

Theophras- penetrating insight of Plato, or Aristotle's keen 

mon Arctsi- m ^ n( ^' or * ne fertile intelligence of Theophrastus, 

laus, Chry- or the grasp and patience of Polemon, Arcesilaus, 

Cameades. Chrysippus, and Carneades ? 

Ancient Greece was rich with a glorious company 
of such men as these ; and there is no need to 
name them severally. Among our own countrymen 
philosophers of that kind have been more rare — 
a deficiency for which fortune is to blame. The 
road to philosophy was no sooner open than first 
Varro and Varro, by far the most learned of all the ancients, 
and after him Cicero, that golden stream of elo- 
quence, threw themselves into it, and were drawing 
the intellect of Rome in their train when the 
revolution came, and barbarism in morals and in 
letters imposed silence on the noble arts. But let 
Examples us come down from those distant periods of 
own time— antiquity to our times. I do not suppose you 
imagine that the writer whom you most admire, 



ON EDUCATION 133 

whom you constantly have in your hands and are 
diligently reading — that Bembo has been able to Bembo. 
reach the splendid eminence which he holds both 
as an orator and a man of learning, without 
knowledge and mastery of many arts. In Bembo 
our age finds its chief ornament, and for myself 
I derive a special delight from him, for from our 
very boyhood we have been closely bound to 
one another by a tie of the most intimate affection, 
and in our love for each other yield nothing to 
brothers of one family. What shall I say of 
Hieronymus Aleander, or, once more, of Desiderius Aieando. 
Erasmus, both of them men very learned, and Erasmus. 
widely famed for their knowledge, their command, 
their retentive grasp of every kind of art and of 
science ? Or what of our friend Andreas Alciatus, Aiciato. 
or again, not to go further, think, Paullus, of your 
friend Gregorius Lilius, with whose example of Gregorio 
scholarly labour and achievement you were early Llho ' 
impressed, while you were still with your father. 
Are we to say that he attained his deep and varied 
knowledge without labour bestowed ? As his 
constant companion Joannes Franciscus Picus, Pico. 
a man of distinguished gifts and noble lineage, 
whom we too have always admired, in what 
field of knowledge or learning can any one think 
him unpractised ? He had, indeed, in his own 
family the example to copy, of a man great both 
in character and in learning, his uncle Joannes 
Picus ; but by his own gifts of mind and his own 
industry he has brought it about, that though 
Joannes is dead we do not lament his loss, being 
able to recognize him in the person of his kins- 



134 SADOLETO 

man by his learning and his temper. But since it 
were an endless task to enumerate all those who 
by natural endowments, reinforced by strenuous 
effort, have achieved distinction in many fields 
of literary and scientific work, let us sum up the 
matter thus. The subjects embraced in the various 
Different liberal and generous arts, though no doubt in 

subjects • .-« 

pursued by different kinds, have similar methods of inquiry 
method 1011 an( ^ investigation by which they are held together 
of investi- as if by one common spirit : and so they are 
easily revealed to sound, alert, observant minds ; 
and to these they lie open and plain to understand. 
But to sluggish and dull intelligences, damaged 
by disuse and sloth, they appear very difficult ; 
insomuch that it seems indeed a true saying 
that they must needs be quickly seized or never : 
for the whole difference lies not in the diversity 
nor the difficulty of the arts, but in ability and 
determination. Nor need we marvel if there have 
Some men, been, and are every day, men who, having set 
spencftheir ^ e ^ ore themselves the task of treating and learning 
whole life some single art, have spent their whole life upon 
Sngk^art. it- Such men are like navigators, who, having 
resolved to shape their course for some particular 
port, are during their voyage taken by the charm 
of another place, and, abandoning their original 
route, settle and establish their fortunes there. 
So, as you said just now, we who pursue philo- 
sophy — in which our destiny has fixed our harbour 
— must take certain ports of call, and stay in 
them as long as befits, and long enough to know 
them ; that must be till you have examined 
the position of the places and the character 



ON EDUCATION 135 

and manners of the people, not as a native or 
resident would, but as an interested traveller, so 
that if you should, by chance, have to return 
thither, you would need no guide, but would be 
revisiting a known and familiar resting-place. 
So in all the other disciplines and arts through We must 
which we make our way to philosophy, we must eachseverai 
master the elements and fundamental principles ; artfa ^ 

r r ' enough 

and those main points from which for the treat- for our 
ment and consolidation of each special subject £Sp se, 
the whole process of argument is drawn must be J^^i 1 ^ 
thoroughly grasped and firmly fixed in the memory. 
Some lines of investigation have to be followed, 
but not all that may be comprised and included 
within the subject, for that is an endless task, and 
one on which not a few good men, attracted by 
the chaqri of some idle gratification, have spent 
the whole of their life or their leisure. For con- 
tinuous application to any single subject always Absorption 
engenders and produces something which you subject 
may contemplate with delight, if the student is SeUehtfuT* 1 
willing minutely to traverse all the matters which 
come within its scope. The student will make 
no end to his researches, save by disentangling 
and freeing himself like Ulysses, whose efforts to 
wrench himself away were too vigorous for him 
to be held captive by the Sirens' song. This at 
all events I can confidently promise and affirm, 
that if a man strive by these aids and disciplines 
to attain philosophy, and tinctured rather than But we 
saturated with a reasonable knowledge and content 
command of these subjects, give himself up Wltha 

. .z. reasonable 

wholly to this queen of all the sciences, he will knowledge 



136 SADOLETO 

and com- afterwards, as need may -arise, in returning to 
thesub- an y special branch of inquiry and seeking to 
ordinate master and apply any part of it, do it with greater 
press on ease and success than if, unversed in philosophy, 
philosophy. ne na -d consumed all his time in the study of 
We may that one particular subject. For he will return to 

return to . . . 

our special the special object with character and mind greatly 
ermched enriched and quickened by the resources of philo- 

and quick- sOphy. 

resources of Paul. Now at length I understand, father, the 
philosophy, g^ jf w j 1 j c ] 1 y OU speak and the method and 

system to be adopted, and I am completely per- 
suaded that this is the proper procedure. It has 
more often been my lot, as you talked, to find 
Pauiius myself impelled by a certain passion towards 
longs for philosophy, and now I feel myself more hotly 

philosophy. r x ^ rx 11 • i- 

aflame than ever, tor I see that there is nothing 
good or worth seeking that does not come from 
her or lead to her. Shall I ever see the day when, 
by the supreme favour of Heaven and by your 
help, I shall know myself to be in possession of 
this great good ? 
He has not Jac. You have but a little of the way yet to 
travel travel, and to a spirit such as yours all that is to 

come will be very easy. You have, indeed, already 
reached the beginnings of moral philosophy, and 
the path leads surely to the loftiest heights and 
ranges of philosophy. By this path I will lead 
you when you have completed the course of study 
which you have now almost covered. For when 
you have achieved the other parts of a liberal 
training you must devote a little more time 
and study to geometry and also to astronomy; 



ON EDUCATION 137 

a single summer will, however, be enough for that, 
provided you draw your information from Greek 
writers : for the Latin treatises are rather confused. 
And as I have so far said nothing about astronomy, 
I think we ought not to pass it over in silence. 
Astronomy * is the science, not of the natures and Astronomy, 
forms of celestial bodies (for that is the business 
of philosophy), but the movements of those vast 
and multitudinous bodies, the daily and nightly 
courses and orbits alike of the vast globes that 
make up all our system and of the stars and 
constellations. A man need not learn all the parts 
of this subject, nor each of them in detail, unless 
he proposes to be a professor of it : but for such 
as make philosophy their aim, to know enough 
and to learn the elements of this science is part 
of a liberal education. For who is so boorish, 
so deaf to the voice of nature, that the spectacle 
of the great luminaries does not stir him to some 
reflection about them ? Surely every one must 
wish to know whether the world in which we 
live occupies a place at the summit, or centre, or 
base of the cosmic system : to have some know- 
ledge of the risings and settings of the stars, the 
movements of the sun, the moon, and other planets, 
differing as they do from one another, and yet 
regular and constant in their own times and spaces : 
how one star approaches another and often passes 
it, or again from time to time suddenly returns : 
the divers eclipses 2 of the sun (as the poet says) 
and the toilings of the moon, why the suns of 

1 Cf. Locke, Thoughts, p. 158, § 180. 

2 Virg. Georg. ii. 477-82. 



138 



SADOLETO 



The desire 
of know- 
ledge 
springs 
from 
wonder, 
and the 
spectacle 
of the starry- 
heavens 
prompts 
wonder. 

The open 
plains of 
philosophy- 
reached 
at last. 



Aristotle's 
Ethics — an 
introduc- 
tion. 



Philosophy 
breathes 
a soul into 
formal and 
habitual 
rectitude of 
conduct. 



winter haste to plunge in the ocean, or what 
delay besets the tarrying nights and other like 
matters. Those who disdain to give their minds 
to such things will find that they have much ado, 
not so much to grasp the truths of philosophy as 
to justify their very title to the name of men. 

Paul. That is true : for if from wonder x springs 
the desire for knowledge and comprehension, as 
I have often heard you say, there is surely nothing 
more marvellous than the contemplation of the 
heavenly bodies. 

Jac. This course being completed, Paullus (for 
we have now reached your present age, and there 
remains for you little or nothing of all the studies 
I have mentioned), we must at length enter the 
broad and open plains of philosophy, so fruitful 
and fertile in all, the use and enjoyment of which 
can serve to render life most happy ! I have 
already made a beginning for you in directing you 
to Aristotle's Ethics. If you read that treatise 
you will learn that anything right and noble in 
your life which is the outcome of practice and 
training is not virtue itself, but the image and the 
semblance of virtue. But, as I have said elsewhere, 
philosophy will breathe a spirit and a soul into 
this dumb and lifeless image, and will give it life 

1 Cf. Plato, Rep. v. 475 c : ' He who has a taste for every 
sort of knowledge and who is curious to learn and is never 
satisfied, may be justly termed a philosopher;' and Theaet. 
155 d : 'I see, my dear Theaetetus, that Theodorus had 
a true insight into your nature when he said that you were 
a philosopher, for wonder is the feeling of a philosopher, and 
philosophy begins in wonder.' 



ON EDUCATION 139 

and expression. But to this study of philosophy Dialectic 
we should add dialectic, to which we also give the too (with 
name of logic. I have long since instructed you lo § lc )- 
in that part of the art which deals with forms and 
methods of proof, and many circumstances have 
combined to teach you for yourself the use and 
value of such processes. But there are many 
difficulties yet which it is necessary to appreciate 
and overcome, Unless the mind is to fail in the 
investigation of the highest matters of all. For 
in every kind of inquiry we undertake there is 
a certain way, or subtle method, of discovering A method 

of science 

what is most essential and proper to that special 
quest, from which materials and arguments are 
to be drawn for sound conclusions and demonstra- 
tions. And there is the more need of grasping 
and understanding this with perfect clearness, 
since there are almost innumerable fallacies, 1 in 
themselves fundamentally opposed to truth, though 
bearing a specious resemblance to it, which 
mislead not only those who have but a tincture 
of knowledge but often the most learned and well- 
informed, dislodging the stable from their position 
and tricking the vigilant. And unless the weapons 
of dialectic are handled with trained skill, no The weapon 
resistance can be made. But since you will soon must^S* 10 
learn, under my guidance, from the actual treatises u se . d h Y 
of Aristotle all that I have just said about dialectic skill. 
and its force and power, there is no need to say 
more now, save only to warn and counsel you 
that, standing as you do on the very threshold 
of philosophy, you should set yourself for constant 
1 On Logic, cf. Locke, Thoughts, p. 162, § 189. 



140 SAD0LET0 

The best reading and reflection the ' best authors of that 

authors to . ° _ . 

be con- incomparable science, above all Plato and Aristotle, 
readV ^ n virtue of whose divine genius and amazing 
especially knowledge, Greece justly claims superiority over 
Aristotle, all other nations. But then you must read the 
commentators, the Greek for choice, for I think you 
Do not use ought carefully to avoid those writers who, offer- 
versions of i n g a Latin version, have produced a corrupt and 
G hT k barbarous jargon, and by their debased style 

sophers. and preposterous questions have spread great 
clouds over philosophy. They bring nothing 
generous nor correct : but in their ignorance 
of the true force of philosophy pursue bastard 
reasonings, or sophisms as the Greeks call them, 
instead of true and legitimate reasons, and, for all 
the violence of their declamation and contention, 
are utterly weak in true wisdom. Led on by their 
False philo- natural vanity and ignorance, they court a reputa- 
sophers. ^- on ^^h the mob for achievements which ought 
to make them blush with shame. Have nothing 
to do with this crew nor their follies, Paullus, but 
The art of embrace Philosophy * in the knowledge that she 
of^pMofo- 1 gi yes tne art °* living happily and well, that she 
P h y- teaches us not only how to think, but how to act 

and do. She will bring you steadfastness and 
strength in good conduct ; she will supply your 
speech with abundance and wealth of fairest 
subjects and thoughts ; she will establish you in 

1 Cf. Cic. Tusc. Disp. i. i. I : ' Cum omnium artium, 
quae ad rectam vivendi viam pertinerent, ratio et disciplina 
studio sapientiae, quae philosophia dicitur, contineretur, 
hoc mihi Latinis litteris inlustrandum putavi . . . ' Ci.de Fin. 
iii. 2. 4: ' Ars est enim philosophia vitae.' 



ON EDUCATION 141 

the soundest counsels and desires, she will ever 
keep you in the way of faith and duty and 
integrity ; she will see to it that what is high and 
upright and generous in your spirit (and in these 
true dignity consists) shall never yield to fortune 
or be moved by prosperity or adversity. 

Those who, having come so far and having Those who, 
long found a nursing mother. in philosophy, turn sophi? 10 ~ 
afterwards to other interests in life, whether the framing, 

turn to any- 
civil law be their pursuit or the service of the other 

1 , ,1 , j r pursuit will 

state in peace or war, or any other art or mode of have gained 
life that leads to honour and renown, may be efficiency 

J and deter- 

Sure that, to whatever they devote themselves, mination. 

they will take with them greatly increased store 
both of facility in entering and of wisdom and 
determination in fulfilling their task. But those Those who 
who make their abiding habitation in philosophy sophy their 
are to be deemed godlike rather than of the Jj^^ 11 
common way and nature of men. It is of their Jeered 
number, Paullus, that I most desire you to be, 
that your own disposition towards virtue and my 
hope for you may win the noblest and best of 
goals. I shrink from no pains to train and teach 
you ; but I would fain be upheld by this supreme 
hope and consolation — the promise of a life con- 
tinued in your own. 



godlike. 



